Obsidian Rhapsody
by Cobalt Violet
Summary: This man was seduction personified. Sirius Black, a top agent for Lord Voldemort. Remus Lupin, an auror unwillingly sworn to save the fallen man. When a chance meeting throws them together, a dance of seduction begins.AU SBRL
1. Chapter One

**A Brief Note On The AU Theme** – _Please take the time to read this; it'll probably help quite a lot!_  Right a number of things, most of which are important. **1)** Sirius Black never met Remus Lupin _or_ James Potter whilst he was at Hogwarts, in other words, The Marauder's gang did not exist. Black did, however, team up with Peter Pettigrew. **2)** This takes place when all four of our fabulous guys are let's say…twenty-four. **3)** THIS IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT! Voldemort is coming to power at this point in time and so James and Remus are among the aurors' trying to stop him. _Peter and Sirius are on Voldemort's side_. That, too is extremely vital, they're not the good guys (well, ok Peter never was but still…) 

**Again:** _The Marauders never met._

~Cracking…my entire world is splitting,

My concepts are all shifting,

My understanding drifting,

For all this time I was missing,

And you're the one holding my key ~ **M-Girls **_'Complete Illusion'_

_Some several years ago, a group of archaeologists were excavating a peat bog near the gardens of a castle in the south east of England, they hoped to find the remains of several prehistoric animals which were rumoured to have died there, instead they found something quite, quite different._

_A diary. Barely legible and covered in filth, it did not look that old, but what interested the archaeologists the most, was the names and the message written inside the cover. Strange names they were, and even stranger was the message, which seemed to be an excerpt from a poem of some sort, but none that any human could identify._

_Sirius Black and Remus Lupin,_

_'For my darling when we are gone,_

_I hope our tale will live on,_

_And mark our place beneath the sky,_

_And know it is for you I die,_

_For love surpasses everything,_

_From lord and noble to dark king,_

_Our love is strong and will live on,_

_Even, my darling, when we are gone…'_

_The rest of the poem was illegible and so the archaeologists took it back to the laboratory to have its pages repaired and cleaned of mud. It was a delicate process that took months, but bit-by-bit, a story began to emerge…_

"Lupin!" Minerva McGonagall raced up a flight of stone stairs, her breath tearing from her throat in painful gasps as her robes flapped behind her in a swirl of green velvet. "LUPIN!" She yelled again, this time much louder as she skidded around a corner in a surprisingly agile way and screeched to a halt outside a thick oak door. Not pausing for breath, she began hammering on it with both fists, urgency in her every movement. 

Inside the small bedroom, Remus Lupin sat bolt upright with a start, short brown hair – streaked very slightly with silver, not grey – mussed and sticking up in ways he would usually have only expected to see on his best friend James Potter's head. For a moment, his confused mind wondered why there was an exceptionally loud banging coming from the door and a loud shouting emanating from behind it, and it was three or four seconds before he recognised the voice.

"REMUS LUPIN GET UP!" McGonagall's could have risen the dead its volume was so loud now. "THERE'S BEEN ANOTHER ATTACK!"

Another attack? Remus dragged a hand across his face wearily as he stumbled out of bed and to his feet, finding and pulling on the nearest robe with haste. Not again… his stomach seemed to slip an inch or two at the thought of what was no doubt now awaiting him at the 'scene of the crime.' His mouth twisted bitterly at the thought; no doubt another fine house reduced to rubble, probably bits of it still smoking, bodies… oh yes, there would always be the bodies. His stomach lurched again at the thought. Innocents, always innocents, murdered by Lord Voldemort himself, or, at least one of his twisted followers. And why? Because they refused to join him? Because they were a threat? His heart ached at the thought as he hurriedly flung open the door to confront Minerva, because they had been auroras trying to make a difference too? He shuddered at the thought, all too easily the next victim could be James, or his wife Lily, or even… 

"Me." He whispered softly.

"What?" McGonagall snapped, impatience rising in her tone.

"Nothing." Remus hurriedly shook off his feelings of dread and gave her a sharp look, "Where?" Was all he said.

The older woman's lips thinned and her face took on an even grimmer expression than it had had on previously. "Five miles to the east of here." She said shortly, "A place called Sable Retreat…a former student used to live there with his family…" She trailed off and her eyes glazed over slightly as if she was seeing something outside normal vision, "…but we lost track of him after he left to take a job." She sighed heavily, "He was one of my best student's," She said, her eyes misting over again, "Very good with transfiguration." 

Her reverie was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a third person, who apparated out of nowhere, his half moon spectacles flashing in the torchlight. "Ah, Minerva, I see you got here before me." He said mildly, absently tugging a few strands of a long, silver beard. "I trust you've informed Remus of the situation?" He smiled slightly, but his blue eyes looked as tired as Remus felt.

"Yes, yes." McGonagall said impatiently, "I was just giving him directions to the Black's home."

_Black…_ The name stirred something in Remus's memory, but for the life of him, he couldn't think why. Another flash of Dumbledore's spectacles brought his attention back to the present, but also put something else in the foremost of his mind. _Half moon._ He reminded himself, shuddering slightly, _only another two more weeks._ Feeling slightly sick at the thought of undergoing yet another transformation, he tried to push it to the back of his mind and focus on more important things.

"It would be best if we _did_ apparate," Minerva was saying, "It's going to be much faster and we need to get there quickly in case… in case there's any survivors." Her tone wasn't hopeful as she glanced at both men, one older, one younger. "The Black's were avidly against… _You Know Who_, we owe them this much."

Dumbledore nodded and in the same instant, three wands were flicked out of robe sleeves. "Apparatus." He said and with a flick of the wrist, the three auroras vanished.

*******

The huge stone hall was dark, save for the two flickering torches that stood in brackets on either side of the imposing, throne like chair. In the chair sat a man, his face cruel and calculating as he watched someone enter through a large door and bow low to him. Snake-like eyes flickered for a moment in brief recognition and the man in the chair smiled coldly looking down at the man who was still bent low at the waist.

"Come now," The voice was as cold as the face had looked, hard as diamonds, freezing as ice, "You know you don't have to keep those civilities with me, my good friend."

"Sir." The bowing man straightened up slightly, and the torchlight caught a handsome face. A straight nose, full yet determined lips, strong eyebrows, high cheekbones and glittering grey eyes all added to the impression of an imperial warrior. Glossy jet-black hair swung as he walked towards the sitting man, just brushing his collarbone through the open neck of his robe. "I have more news on the developments."

"Pray tell." One pale hand came up to caress a serpent, which had hitherto remained unseen, coiled around one of the brackets.

"The auroras are acting as you suspected my lord." The man's voice was husky, slightly deep and low, "They've taken off towards Sable Retreat." He turned his tanned face away for a moment, gazing at one of the red drapes that lined the room. "The werewolf is with them." He looked back, smiling slightly, "I trust you want me to act as…_discretely_ as possible when I capture him?"

"There will be no need to go looking for him." The snake-eyed man's voice was filled with a suppressed sense of triumph. "He will come looking for us in good time…well," He seemed to amend as one black eyebrow rose in a silent question, "He'll come looking for _you_." He laughed suddenly, "Alert the others, we'll want a royal welcome for him when he arrives."

The black-haired man grinned, "Very good my lord." He turned and was halfway out of the room before the high, cold voice stopped him again.

"And since it's you he will be looking for, I think I'll let you have the pleasure of convincing him to join us."

"Thankyou my lord."

*******

He had been right; he reflected miserably as he poked through the burnt and shattered rubble that had once been Sable Retreat; of course he had been right. Remus sighed, but just for once, he wished he had been _wrong_, was that too much to ask? Apparently it was, he decided as he continued to clear debris away from near the chimneystack, searching for anyone who might be alive. Behind him, he could hear Dumbledore, Minerva, Mundungus Fletcher and several other auroras whispering in shock at the sight of what had once been such a magnificent building and was now a pile of smouldering bricks and burning ashes.

Suddenly, the pile of smashed bricks he was clearing away, trembled slightly. Eyes widening and hands beginning to shake, Remus dropped to his knees, regardless of the biting night cold, which was now beginning to seep its way through his robes, and began frantically scrabbling away the loose rocks. Suddenly, and without warning, his questing fingers met flesh and he sped up, finally pulling away a large block to reveal a dust covered man with greying black hair.

"Lupin?" McGonagall had come over, closely followed by Dumbledore and they both peered of Remus's shoulder. Eyes wide behind her spectacles, Minerva McGonagall pulled out her wand. "He's unconscious." She said shortly before flicking the small piece of wood and muttering, "_Inconstialis_." 

The man gave a sudden gasp, as though air had filled his lungs, and his eyes cracked open. "Who…who are you?" he croaked suddenly, staring at them all, apparently not recognising the two older people behind Remus. "Where's Martha?" He trailed off, coughing loudly, and Remus was more than a little alarmed to see a small trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.

"Martha?" He asked as gently as possible, trying to ignore the tightening sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Who's Martha?"

"His wife." Dumbledore said quietly from behind Remus, "We found her…" He trailed off, knowing full well the conclusion the werewolf's mind would leap to.

"She's…"

"Yes."

Remus turned back to look at the man whose whole attention now seemed to be focused on him, completely disregarding the two, much greater, people. "Your wife…" He began, not knowing how to tell the older human. "She's…well…" His stuttering was cut off abruptly as the man sighed suddenly before coughing again, this time much harder. The trickle of blood increased.

"I know." He rasped suddenly, and gripped Remus' shoulder hard. "She's dead isn't she?" On the aurora's hesitant nod, he smiled slightly. "Knew she would be… but we won't be separated for long." He coughed again and for some minutes struggled to breathe easily. Once he'd regained some form of control he looked at Remus again. "There's something you must do…" his voice was no more than a harsh whisper now, but his grip was tighter than ever. 

Amber eyes widened as Remus looked down at the former owner of Sable Retreat. "What?" He muttered, lowering his head closer to the dying man's mouth. "Is it something I can help with, to ease your pain?" It was a stupid question, and the man's eyes flashed with slight anger and amusement.

"No, it's…about my…my son." He gave a half smile, one that was devoid of humour. 

"But… you're son vanished." Remus shook his head slightly and prepared to pull out of the man's grasp, convinced that his mind was wandering. "He's probably dead… the ministry searched for him…" He trailed off as the man shook his head hard, provoking another coughing fit and behind Lupin, Dumbledore turned and shouted instructions to get a medical wizard as fast as possible.

"_No_." The man hissed again, staring straight into Remus' eyes. "He did this… he's…" he sighed and lay back slightly, the strength ebbing from him, "…he's alive…very much so…" his eyes began to glaze over slightly and his words began to ramble slightly, "…look after him… the dark lord's servant… powerful…" Remus bent closer as the words got quieter and more desperate. "You are his redemption." The man muttered before, with a sudden slump, he fell backwards, his hand slipping from Remus's shoulder.

"Lupin?" Minerva McGonagall's tone was quiet, almost sympathetic as Remus stood up and turned around.

"No." he muttered, shaking his head in her direction, "He's…there's no point in getting a medical wizard now." He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he stared down at the now dead man. "That was Orion Black?" He asked suddenly, sounding unsure. "That was the owner of… well… of this?"

"Yes." Dumbledore frowned slightly, "Why do you ask?"

"He said something about his son." The words were tumbling out of Remus's mouth now, there was no stopping them. "He said he'd done this and something about the dark lord's servant and…well…Sirius Black is still alive." He watched their reactions. McGonagall tottered slightly and clutched Dumbledore's arm, her face going as white as chalk. Dumbledore himself looked calculatedly blank, but one of his eyebrows was twitching slightly.

"Impossible." McGonagall managed eventually, "Black's been missing for three years."

"But his father…" Remus began, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"His mind was probably wandering, Lupin." He gave a slight smile, "Sirius Black is dead."

Remus said nothing; he turned away and looked out towards the forest that stood on the edge of the large, manicured lawn. A faint breeze had picked up and the leaves were rustling, sounding like the sea that was so far away. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, a large black dog appeared on the fringes of the wood, padding silently out of the trees to sit by one of the flowerbeds, it's tongue lolling slightly, as if had just been running. Frowning, Remus looked closer, the dog thumped its tail once and stared back at him, still panting.

If this was a Grim, it looked very friendly.

A sudden shout from behind the werewolf, told him that the medical wizard had arrived, and he turned around to glance at the white clad man who was now placing the dead owner of Sable Retreat onto a floating stretcher. Frowning, Remus felt a pang of sadness as he watched the body being taken away, before he looked back towards the woods.

The dog had completely vanished.


	2. Chapter Two

**CB:** Sorry, it's been ages since I updated this *sighs* I've just been doing a hundred and one other things. Anyway, my thanks to all who reviewed, your comments were greatly appreciated.

_Another Note Of Explanation:_ This story **does** take place in our present time, so when the diary is found in the swamp it is, in fact, in the future. It is uncovered in about ten to twenty years after the events, which will be happening throughout this story.

'_Take my hand, live while you can,_

_And if we walk now, we can divide and conquer this land…'_

Vanessa Carlton – 'Ordinary Day' Seven months later… 

Remus shivered as he waited in the dark alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. His breath puffed in front of him like the steam from an engine as he shifted from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for James to return from within the warm recesses of the bar. The stars glittered frostily down from the sky, looking very much like hard diamonds on velvet as they winked knowingly. The moon, which was on the wane, looked watery and pale from its perch in the heavens as it granted a small amount of silvery light.

"Moony?"

Remus jumped as James returned, walking on silent feet to where his friend waited. "Where have you been?" The shorter man asked, his voice laced with concern and irritation, "I've been waiting for half an hour!"

James shrugged, his hair sticking up at odd angles as he pulled two bottles from within the recesses of his cloak, "Here, some Butterbeer, it'll help to warm you up." Seeing Remus's pointed look, he sighed. "Oh, all right, I got talking to Madame Rosmerta…and then I couldn't get away, ok?" He stamped his feet and blew on his fingers, "Anyway, I've booked two rooms, so we can go straight up to them."

"Nobody suspicious?" Remus peered at James's face in the half light, "No one asking questions about the auroras?"

"Nope." James shook his head, then grabbed his friend's hand, "Come on, it's freezing out here…"

"Yes, I know." Remus pointed out, "I've been standing out here."

"All the more reason to go in!"

Rolling his eyes, the werewolf was just about to turn and walk into the inn, when a soft whine caught his ears. "What's that?" He demanded, pausing to glance about the still street. Seeing James's blank expression, he elaborated, "That noise, like an animal that's been hurt." He waved a graceful hand in an explanatory gesture, "A sort of whine."   
  


James looked blank, his brown eyes shining behind his glasses. "Sorry Rem, I didn't hear anything, perhaps…" He was cut off as Remus clapped a hand over his mouth.

"There it is again!"  
  


"Mmph!"  
  
"It could be a poor abandoned puppy…"

"Mm."  
  


"It sounds like a dog, doesn't it?"  
  
"Mmph!" James waved his hands in a complicated gesture, trying to convey to Remus that he couldn't very well agree when he couldn't voice his own opinion, but his friend wasn't watching, so instead, he settled for giving him a short, sharp kick in the shin.

"Ouch!" Remus dropped his hand from James's mouth and rubbed the offended bone, which was now throbbing painfully. "You didn't have to do that, you git!" He hissed from between clenched teeth, "That _hurt_." Amber eyes glared balefully at the annoyingly cheerful face just above him as Remus sidled away from his best friend, limping slightly. "I was only trying to make a point."  
  


"And I only wanted to agree with you." James replied innocently, "But I couldn't, because _someone_ had his hand over my mouth, so I endeavoured to express my feelings in another manner." He smiled slightly, black hair flopping into his eyes before he brushed it back impatiently. "Now can we _please_ go in? It's freezing out here." He blew a stream of hot breath out of his mouth to demonstrate. "See? We stand around much longer and we'll be a Jamesicle and a Remsicle." He shivered and drew his cloak closer as Remus appeared to pay no attention to him, instead, limping off towards the main street.

"Where are you going?" He hurried to catch up with his friend, who was heading towards the opposite alleyway. "C'mon, there's nothing _there_…" James didn't realise Remus had stopped until he banged into him. Staggering slightly, he slipped on the icy cobbles and had to grab the werewolf's arm for support.

They were standing in front of a large pile of boxes marked 'Madame Millicent's Marvellous Menagerie – Any Kind Of Creature For Any Kind Of Witch'. James raised an eyebrow. "It's a very nice pile of boxes Remus." He said in a calming sort of voice, "Yes, _very_ nice, but can we PLEASE GO INSIDE?" He huffed, as Remus took no notice of him, and stamped his feet, trying to warm them, or at least return some feeling to them.

Remus had all but forgotten his friend was there. His werewolf senses were always sharp, that was one of the things that made him such a good auror, but now they seemed positively razor edged. He could smell everything, from the crisp tang of the freezing air to the faint musk that was carried on the slight wind from behind the boxes. He could smell blood, fresh blood, beating through a living body and it wasn't James's blood it was _animal_ blood, but strange, slightly…off. His ears picked up the faint whine again and he darted across the last few feet, scrabbling at the boxes with frozen, pale fingers.

"What are you doing now?" James asked wearily as the stack of boxes shuddered slightly, before ponderously toppling to the floor with an almighty crash. "Really Remus, I know it's practically that time of the month…" he paused as his friend knelt down next to a dark shape. "What? What is it?" Stepping forwards, he peered down as well, brown eyes widening. "Oh…" He breathed, I'll just go and um…I'll go and get help…" He backed away and, turning, sprinted back towards the Three Broomsticks.

Remus hardly noticed as he reached out one hand to gently touch the frozen, stiff fur of the dog that was lying behind the boxes. "You poor thing," He murmured softly, still gently stroking its fur, "How did you get to be like this." His eyes raked the dog's body, checking for injuries, and he noticed a slight swelling on one of its hind legs. "I think you've sprained your leg." He said, gently touching the injured area.

The dog yelped and its eyes flew open, revealing them to be a strange and unusual grey colour as it stared accusingly at Remus. Its look seemed to say 'keep your hands to yourself if it's going to hurt.'

"Sorry," Remus soothed, withdrawing his hand from the hind leg, "I didn't mean to hurt you…look, James has come back."

And indeed James had, accompanied by Madame Rosmerta, who took one look at the animal and produced a blanket from the depths of the basket she had brought out with her. "Here," She said firmly, pressing it at the black haired man, "Wrap this around its body and help Remus to lift the poor dear."

"_Me_?" James asked, sounding horrified. "The bloody thing will probably take my arm off!" He did have a reason to be nervous, because the dog was now growling. Not a light rumble but a deep-throated roar, its hackles had risen and it was glaring – if that was possible – hard. James hurriedly retreated a few steps and tossed the blanket to Remus. "Here, you do it, the thing seems to like you."

Remus caught the blanket, smiling slightly as he turned to face the dog, which immediately stopped growling and thumped its tail. As the werewolf bent closer, he saw the dog's gaze was meeting his own, its look entirely intelligent and a little wary. "Hey," Remus said softly, "I'm just going to tuck this around you," he brandished the blanket, "And then we'll get you inside and feed you, yes?" As he talked, he carefully mirrored his words with actions before gently lifting the dog.  
  
Rosmerta whistled under her breath, her dark eyes shining. "He's stronger than he looks, isn't he?" She nudged James and nodded towards Remus, who had walked past them and was entering the pub.

"Mm." James nodded and hurried after his friend, intent on making sure the dog didn't savage him.  
  
Pushing open the door he hurried in after Remus and sat down on the nearest stool, taking his cloak off as he did so. "Blimey, Rem," He said, peering across the bar top to where his friend had laid the dog and was now gently bandaging its leg, "Madame Rosmerta was impressed with your strength." 

Remus appeared to take no notice as he continued to soothe the dog, running pale hands over its fur as he murmured softly to it. James watched, his eyes thoughtful as his friend finished the bandaging and picked up a bottle of Butterbeer, pouring some of it into a saucer and placing it near the dog's head.  
  
"Hey, hey!" James protested, eyeing the bottle, "Don't waste decent Butterbeer on that mutt!" To prove his point, he grabbed the bottle out of Remus's hand and took a swig. "It'd be much better wasted on me!" He smirked as Remus snorted, before he peered over the bar again to look at the dog, which was glaring up at him balefully. "Touchy fellow, isn't he?" He remarked, eyes shining behind his glasses as he ran a hand through his messy black hair.

"Not really." Remus knelt down next to the dog and scratched behind one of its ears. "He's just sensitive is all."  
  


"Well, sensitive or no, he's not staying down here, Remus J. Lupin." Madame Rosmerta's voice said from behind James, "He'll terrify my customers." She smiled, raising one dark eyebrow, "You'll have to take him up to you room, just make sure he doesn't shed _too_ many hairs on the carpet." She smiled again and then marched off towards a table with a bunch of rowdy wizards around it who were calling for more drinks, her high heels tapping a quick staccato on the flagstone floor.

"Um." Remus said, still stroking the dog's head. "What are we going to do with you, eh?" He sighed, patted the dog once more and stood up, wincing slightly at the stiffness in his knees. "James, how long are we here for?"  
  
James, who was busy downing a tankard of Butterbeer, held up two fingers.

"Well, at least that gives Padfoot time to recover slightly."  
  
Butterbeer sprayed across the counter and James, looking shocked, wiped the back of his mouth. "Sorry, _what_? You've given that…that… _thing_ a name?" He spluttered, staring at his friend in disbelief. "And you think it's coming _with us_ when it's healed?" He coughed and thumped the tankard down on the wood in front of him. "Remus! It's a huge, hairy _beast_, it'll probably savage us as well as any deatheaters in the area!" He shuddered, "Besides, it doesn't like me."

"As long as he's hurt, and as long as he wants to, he stays." Remus said firmly, glaring at James from the other side of the bar. "He's not a beast." He pursed his lips, amber eyes flashing. "_I'm_ a beast, James, but you seem to get on well with _me_."  
  
James raised his hands in the air in surrender. "Ok, ok!" He cautiously peered over the edge of the bar again as a low rumble sounded from down by the floor. "Whatever you say, Rem. But look, I'd get him out of here, Rosmerta will be back any minute now and that th…Padfoot, was it? Will be in serious trouble if he's not well hidden." He sighed and sank back onto his stool, "Just don't blame me if he savages anyone." He added, as Remus picked up the dog again and headed for the stairs at the back of the inn. "Rooms thirty one and thirty two!" He added, raising his voice above the babble of the other customers.

********

The candle had burnt low, its small flame casting long, flickering shadows around the cosy bedroom as Remus sat in the solitary armchair by the fire, one hand cupping his chin as he stared moodily into the flames. Somewhere behind him, he could here the long, slow breathing of the large, shaggy dog he'd rescued and the occasional small whimper as it dreamt.

Today had been…odd, he thought as he gazed unseeingly at the grate. They'd received an emergency owl from one of the villagers saying that they suspected a group of deatheaters were in the area, but so far there was no sign of them. That, in itself, was worrying, normally, if there was even _one_ of Voldemort's lackeys they tended to make their presence known, quite simply because the ordinary wizard or witch was too frightened to try anything against them.

These were dark days indeed, Remus thought bleakly. Men and women, scared for their lives, willing to do anything to escape death, or worse. The aurors were supported, but few openly showed that support, and more often than not, they were captured and tortured for their trouble. Voldemort's strength had obviously increased tremendously, and there were so few who dared to oppose him. Even the ministry had simply failed to function properly, and now worked on the 'every wizard for himself' basis.

But perhaps more troubling even than that was the promise he's made Orion Black several months ago as the older man lay dying in the rubble of his burnt out home. He'd been _convinced_ that his son was alive and that Remus was the one to help return his son to the right path. However, every time he'd approached Dumbledore since then about the matter, he'd been brushed aside…and James had said there were rumours springing up within the ministry, rumours involving him…

Remus shuddered and tried to stop that train of thought, turning instead to James and his new wife Lily. That had been a happy day, no more than a few weeks ago, with Remus playing best man for the ceremony. But again, his thoughts took a darker turn as he wondered just how long their marriage would last with James doing the job he did. They were already stuck out here on a potentially dangerous mission, what if something happened? What if James was attacked whilst he, Remus, was undergoing his monthly ordeal? What if…no, he shouldn't think like that.

Sighing, the werewolf got to his feet and padded across the room to check on the dog he'd named Padfoot.

Black limbs sprawled everywhere, mouth slightly open and nose twitching, Padfoot resembled an almost cute sight. His back leg was moving slightly, as though he was running after something and his ears were twitching madly. Smiling gently, Remus leant down to pat him, and was surprised when grey eyes snapped open to look up at him.

"'Night Padfoot." He murmured softly, "Sweet dreams."  
  
The dog thumped its tail and climbed heavily to its feet, it's mouth stretched in a canine smile. Curiously, it watched Remus move around the room, as he changed into a pair of pyjamas before climbing into the large four poster bed and snuggling down under the heavy sheets. There was a moment's pause and then the flame from the candle was blown out, leaving only the flickering firelight to light the room. 

Padfoot paused for a moment, his head cocked to one side as he stared at the shadowy form lying in the bed. Then, quite suddenly, it seemed the dog had made up its mind because it took one, two, steps and leapt onto the bed, startling Remus, who sat up with a loud exclamation of surprise.

"Padfoot!" He half sighed, relief showing in his face as he stared down at the dog. "Don't do that!" Breathing a sigh of relief, he lay back again as the huge black dog settled itself at the end of the bed, its eyes gleaming in the light from the fire. "Go to sleep, Padfoot." Remus murmured sleepily, his eyes drifting shut as his heart rate slowed.

The dog rumbled in its throat, as if in agreement.

********

_Something was tickling his nose, a nagging, worrying little annoyance, but one that was persistent. Should he bother to open his eyes? Wouldn't the itch relieve itself?_ Remus scrunched up his nose a little. _Ah, that was better…no, the itch was back again…he'd have to scratch his nose…but any movement involved becoming fully conscious and he wanted to sleep for as long as possible._ The werewolf shifted slightly in the bed, wiggling his toes as he weighed the pros and cons of opening his eyes. On discovering that no resisting lump hindered his stretching at the end of the bed, he decided that it was time to get up because if Padfoot was up and terrifying the staff at the Three Broomsticks, _he'd_ be held responsible.

That tickling itch was getting annoying though.

Reaching up with one hand he scratched the tip of his nose, but his shocked fingers met with a strange material at the same time, most decidedly _not_ the skin he'd come to expect when one felt one's nose. Amber eyes flew open and rolled cautiously downwards, trying to see what had irritated him from his sleep. What met his eyes was waves of black…hair? 

Remus blinked, his eyes wandering down further, until he caught sight of a face, resting against his chest, its owner apparently peacefully asleep.

_Oh dear_.

Remus shifted experimentally, and discovered that, whilst his toes were free, the rest of him wasn't. The…man, was it? Yes, male, they were snoring slightly, was draped across his chest, one arm flung around his waist, the other, palm upturned, lying next to him on the pillow. As his gaze roved, Remus took in the straight, dark eyebrows, full lips and lightly tanned skin of the rooms other occupant. The man's mouth was open slightly and his breath wafted across the werewolf's bare skin in little puffs of air.

Shivering slightly, Remus shifted again, and was rewarded when grey, almond shaped eyes flew open and the man blinked slightly, before staring up at the auror's irate expression. A slow, almost lazy smile flitted across the full lips and the man pushed himself up slightly onto one elbow. "Good morning." He said pleasantly, his voice a soft, slightly husky tone. "I hope I didn't wake you."  
  
"Hardly." Remus's voice was icy, "Would you care to explain what you're doing here?"  
  
The man raised an eyebrow, before he sat up fully and swung his legs off the bed. Standing up, he padded to the window and stretched, completely unmindful of the fact that he was naked. Muscles rippled down his back and his long, black hair brushed his skin lightly as he turned around again. "No, I don't think I would." He said, an amused smirk highlighting his features. "But now, you're coming with me."

Remus blinked, the surreal quality of the scene he seemed to be in, hitting him full in the face for the first time. "What? Is this some kind of joke?" He asked, disbelief tingeing his voice as he stared up at the other man. "James arranged this, didn't he?"  
  
"James?" The dark haired man sounded genuinely curious, "Who's…oh! You're friend with the glasses, yes?" He smiled, eyes closing for a brief moment as he laughed. "No, he did not 'arrange' this." Still smiling, he walked towards Remus's case and pulled out the other robe. Dragging it on over his head he turned around again. "I suggest you put on some clothes." He added, looking the werewolf up and down, "Whilst I appreciate the view, other people may not." As Remus turned, he darted over to the bed and reached under the mattress, pulling out a small knife. "And then I suggest you do exactly as I say."  
  
Remus stared at him, mouth slightly open. "You expect me to just let you waltz in here and…and…"  
  
"Kidnap you?" The man added helpfully. "Why yes, I do. Now get your clothes on, we're leaving."  
  
"And if I refuse?" Remus crossed his arms defiantly.

In less than a heartbeat, the man was across the room, the blade of the knife hovering bare inches from the skin at his neck. "You won't, this blade is made of silver, werewolf…so you see, I'm ready for you." He moved swiftly away and sat on the edge of the bed. "Now dress…and don't try anything, I have your wand as well."

Seething inwardly, Remus hastily dragged the other robe out from the case and pulled it on, his face showing only icy calm as he struggled with his boots. Inside, the wolf raged silently. _How dare this man take us prisoner…rend him…tear him…drink his blood_. For once, Remus thought wryly, he agreed with his animal counterpart. But instead, he simply took his time in dressing, struggling to maintain control as he looked hopefully around the room, praying that Padfoot would return any minute now, the dog's vicious nature should be put to good use.

But Padfoot didn't arrive, and all too soon, the last bit of clothing had been done up and adjusted, and the long haired man was standing in front of him, a small smirk lighting his face. "Now, be a good boy and come with me." The silver of the blade glittered cruelly in the light and Remus swallowed, feeling a prickling of fear crawling down his spine. "And keep up appearances." The man added, sliding one arm around the werewolf's waist.

Through the material of his robe, Remus could feel the warning burn of the silver. _So close to my skin_, he thought dizzily, trying to swallow the irrational fear of the wolf that was creeping up his throat in a panicked howl. _So close…_

As they walked quickly down the stairs, Remus found himself praying that someone else would be up at this early hour. His prayers were answered in the form of Madame Rosmerta, who was sleepily washing up several glasses behind the bar.

Her head jerked up at the sound of their footsteps across the room and she gave a sleepy smile, her brown eyes welcoming. "Remus, you're up early! And Mr Goddard, leaving already?" Her eyes moved to the possessive arm 'Mr Goddard' had around Remus's waist and she smiled. "You two didn't tell me you knew one another!"  
  
The knife gave a warning prick and the man holding it shot Rosmerta a charming smile. "Remus and I have known one another for a long time." He sighed, and ran his free hand, fanning it out lightly as he did so, taking care to keep the knife well hidden in his sleeve. "We go back a long way," He nuzzled the other man's neck slightly, before shooting Rosmerta a wicked smile. "A _very_ long way."  
  
Rosmerta laughed and turned back to her dish cloth. "Well I won't keep you then." She said.

As his last chance of escape, quite literally turned its back, Remus felt himself sinking into a pit of despair that only grew as he was walked across the room and out through the door into the crisp, early morning air. Once outside, his captor pulled him over to a small copse at the edge of the village and turned to face him.

"I might as well tell you now." He said soberly, "This isn't going to be much fun for you." Turning around again, he muttered a charm under his breath and, quite suddenly, a motorbike appeared, sheltered underneath the trees. "Hop on."  
  
"Why should I?" Remus spat angrily, throwing off the hand that had come to grip his arm again. "Why should I make this any easier? I don't even know who you are! Or what you're going to do to me!"  
  


The smiled, revealing a row of white teeth. "Someone wants a word with you, that's all." He smirked in a worrying way before turning back to the motorcycle and starting the engine, dragging Remus on in one swift move. "And don't even think about trying to jump off!" He shouted over the roar of the motor, "It's charmed so you can't, see?"  
  


Remus felt his teeth clench. Had this man read his every move? He seemed too well prepared to be an ordinary murderer or some such, which left only on thing he could be…he felt his gut clench with fear again. "Tell me your name." He said quietly as the motorbike began to roll out of the copse of trees.  
  
The man turned his head slightly, so his profile was outlined against the rising sun. 

"Black." He said, not looking directly at Remus. "Sirius Black."  
  
_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter Three

**CB:** My apologies for taking so long with this chapter, but I've had a ton of things going on at the moment, not least of all the fact that I've had massive exams to deal with, then my computer broke down, so I'm typing on a laptop at the moment, which I'm unused to, and _then_ Order Of The Phoenix came out, and I've been wallowing in miserable self-pity since, because I managed to finish it on the day it came out and discovered that SPOILER died, which, of course, broke my heart, because he was my favourite character. Oh, which reminds me, did anyone else find that Lupin, Black, Harry and, indeed even Dumbledore, were all acting extremely OOC? Heh, well, maybe it's just me, but OOTP was a big let down, it was more like an extremely long –but not necessarily badly written – fanfiction.  
But don't let me put you off reading it, ^_~

_Thanks at the end of the chapter._

The bike roared down the quiet country lane, scattering leaves in its wake as its engine purred loudly in the silence of the early morning. Its tyres screeched slightly as it curved around another corner, its passengers leaning gracefully into the curve as the body of the bike tilted gently to one side before righting itself and flashing past. If there had been a casual observer to notice anything, they would have seen that the two riders were, in fact, men, and despite the speed of the bike, and almost reckless driving, neither man wore any protective clothing, although the slightly smaller one, hanging on for grim life certainly looked as though he could have used some.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut as the bike tilted around another corner. However, with the loss of his vision, his other senses became more acute, and he discovered he could now feel every small shudder as the vehicle shot down the road, smell the pungent scent of burning rubber and the faint tang of leather that emanated from the man whose waist he was clutching so desperately. Reluctantly he opened his eyes again when he felt the vehicle slow slightly, and saw they were passing through a small, sleepy village, whose inhabitants were clearly not awake yet, except for one, small girl, who waved cheerfully as they went past, before turning back to the cat she had clearly been scolding.

"Nearly there." Sirius Black shouted over his shoulder, turning his head slightly so his words would not be whipped away by the rushing wind. "The castle's straight ahead." He nodded his head in front of them, and Remus raised reluctant eyes to watch the large building that was drawing nearer.

_I'm going to die,_ he thought, feeling a quick flash of anger, _I'm going to die, and I never had a chance to say good bye to James and Lily. But why have they kidnapped me? The only explanation is I've got hold of some information they don't want made public and they've decided to kill me so nobody else will know. _He sighed, and clenched his fingers where they were still clutching Black's robes, feeling the rough scratch of the material against his palms and the sting of the long, dark hair whipping his face as it was teased by the wind. _But what information?_ His rational mind asked, _you and the rest haven't turned anything up for the past **year** or so! How can you have anything that would destroy Voldemort if it was told?_ Remus blinked, his eyes flitting over Black's back as he frowned. _I know, but still, there must be something…**anything**!_

The bike pulled to a smooth, if rather sudden stop, and Remus blinked, thrown off balance for a moment before he realised they were in the middle of a pleasant, rather spacious courtyard that was guarded by three walls and a portcullis built into the last wall. Too busy with his inner deliberations, he had missed the last part of the journey, and consequently, any hope of knowing the surrounding area if he was to escape. Cursing inwardly, he slid off the bike as Sirius Black pulled the key from the ignition before jumping off as well, but not before running a fond hand over the sleek metal in front of him. For a moment, Remus watched the perfect contrast of smooth blackness and long, tanned fingers, before he shook himself as he felt the wolf inside give him a mental jab. Someone was coming.

Feeling slightly dizzy, he turned to face the man that was stalking down the wide stone steps to meet them.

Greasy black hair hung on either side of a sallow, sour face, as the man's black robes billowed as he walked. His hooked, almost beak-like nose gave Remus the impression of a large bird of prey, and the gleaming, intelligent black eyes only added to this surmise. One of the man's broad eyebrows rose as he gazed sneeringly down at Remus, halting a few steps above him, so Remus had to look up. "What, may I ask, is _this_." His tone was cold, and filled with disdain as he eyed the werewolf dubiously before turning his gaze on Sirius, who was still standing next to the bike. If it was possible, his gaze became even icier as his eyes rested on the casual, relaxed man, who smirked in return.

"_This_, as you so charmingly put it, Snape, is Remus Lupin." It was difficult to say whose tone held more frosty dislike, Black's or Snape's.

The other eyebrow rose, and Snape allowed an expression of slight astonishment and disgust to pass over his features. "Are you sure?" He asked, sneering slightly at Black, and completely ignoring Remus, whose expression had darkened considerably, "After all, Black, you _have_ been known to get things wrong more often than not…I'm still not entirely sure why our Lord keeps you around." He smirked slightly, and from behind, Remus could hear the sharp hiss as Black fought to keep control of his temper.

_Not exactly friendly, these two,_ his inner voice commented, _that could be useful._

Snape turned his dark gaze back to Remus, his expression one of utter disdain as he took in the slightly shabby robes and windswept hair. "Oh dear," He said softly, "You look worse than I expected; yes, quite the disgusting, poverty stricken mongrel I had anticipated." He smiled coldly at Remus, his skin looking paler than ever as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud, throwing his face into high relief.

"At least I don't look like I should be hanging upside down in a dungeon somewhere." Lupin retorted, his voice and face tight with the effort not to strike the man and let his temper get the better of him. Inside, the wolf was howling, scrabbling to be let out so it could lash out at this vile, nasty man, who had dared to insult them. Remus continued to gaze steadily at Snape, but didn't fail to hear the small chuckle that came from Black, who had moved, almost defensively to his side,

"He has you there, Snape." He said, cheerfully, "Now move, I have to show Mr Lupin to his room." Striding past Remus, he shoved Snape to one side and began marching up the steps, pausing only to check that his unwilling companion was following. "You'll just have to ignore Snape," He commented quietly as they walked along a warm, sunlit corridor, "He treats everyone with a certain amount of disdain…but you…I think you'll probably be his primary target for verbal abuse from now on." Shaking his head slightly, as if in despair at the rudeness of his companion's manner, he dragged a hand through his long hair, pulling several strands of it back from his face. "Damn, I forgot to tie this up this morning." He remarked, holding one of the strands up before his eyes and gazing at it mournfully, "If I don't put it up soon, it'll get _completely_ tangled." Sighing, he let it drop again, and continued walking.

Remus almost pointed out that his captor's hair was already quite, quite tangled, thanks to the bike ride, and that, in fact, he closely resembled a lion that needed its mane trimmed. However, he kept his mouth firmly shut, and hurried after the man, who stopped, suddenly, outside a light oak door. "Here we are." He remarked pleasantly, again, running an irritable hand through his hair before twisting the knob. 

There was a flash of light, and a loud yelp from Black, who leapt backwards, shaking his fingers before jamming them in his mouth and sucking them. "'Ere usk ee a arm." He said indistinctly, scowling at the door, before prodding it with a cautious boot-clad foot. There was another flash, and his face lit up in a triumphant smile. "Fought 'o." He said, before taking his fingers out of his mouth and inspecting the reddening flesh. "Ouch."

Remus bit his lip and walked forwards, grabbing the hand. "Here," He said quietly, "Give me my wand, I know a good healing charm for burns."  
  
Black eyed him doubtfully for a moment. "I'm not sure that's a wise idea." He said, grey eyes cautious as he looked at the werewolf, "Let's face it, you're a captive, the first thing you're going to do when you get your hands on your wand is stun me and do a runner." He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, "Sorry, I'll just have to perform one of my own, spectacularly bad charms." He grinned weakly and reached into the pocket of the robe he was wearing, pulling out a slender, dark wand, before waving it and muttering something under his breath. The red patches on his fingers faded, but instead, they were replaced by strange, pale lumps, that apparently itched, because the injured man immediately winced and started to scratch them. "I was never any good at healing charms." He muttered, glaring balefully at his wand, as though it was the wood's fault.

"Oh, here." Remus said, exasperated, before he reached out, plucking Black's wand from his hand. Waving it, he muttered something and lightly tapped the irritated hand, before handing the wand back to his surprised captor. The lumps had vanished, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin in the spell's wake, and Black nodded his thanks, before pocketing the wand again.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." He said quietly, as he studied the door, apparently looking for the counter charm or password. "But you have my thanks all the same." He added hurriedly, as Remus raised an eyebrow. Brushing his hair back, he bent down to peer at the keyhole, before letting out a reasonably quiet whoop of triumph. Digging into his pocket again, Sirius produced a strange, slightly curved piece of metal, and inserted it into the lock, biting his lip and frowning in concentration as he did so. Carefully, he wiggled the strange device gently back and forth until there was a dull 'click' and the door swung neatly open.

Grunting in satisfaction, the dark haired man turned to smirk at Remus, grey eyes sparkling. "That's what comes of being a genius," He said, without a trace of smugness or egoism, "You see the blindingly obvious, when other's don't. I may be terrible at healing charms, but I can point out exactly what's wrong with something, correct it _and_ invent extra spells to keep it safe." He smiled and ushered Remus into the room before following him, "…And I can damn well pick a lock." He added.

********

James stared in disbelief as Madame Rosmerta related exactly what she'd seen that morning. 

"Let me get this straight," He interrupted at last, unable to believe it, "Remus waltzed out of here at the crack of dawn, with another man all over him, and you didn't _question_ this?" He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes in frustration. "What did the man look like?" He replaced his glasses and scowled at Rosmerta, who looked thoughtfully down at the bar top before replying.

"He had long, black hair, not drawn back. He was about medium height…a little taller than Remus, but not quite as tall as you, with grey eyes, said his name was Goddard when he booked a room. He had a fairly slender build, straight nose, full lips…" Her eyes took on a rather dreamy quality, "A nice voice…"

James rolled his eyes and sank onto the nearest stool, burying his face in his hands. "Rosmerta, did it ever occur to you that what happened was a set up? To my knowledge, Remus does not enjoy the company of men in _that_ sense, and he _certainly_ didn't know a 'Mr Goddard'." His voice still slightly muffled because of his hands, James added, "And they didn't tell you where they were going or when they'd be back?" Peering up, he saw Rosmerta shake her head and groaned. "That's it then, he's been kidnapped. His things are gone from his room, that damn dog is missing and he just wanders out of here when no normal person is usually awake. _DAMN._"

"I'm sorry…I didn't realise." Rosmerta interjected, "But I had no idea that people were looking for Remus." She shot him a reproving look, "If you'd just _told _me…"  
  
"I didn't know!" James shouted, leaping to his feet, knocking the stool over in the process, "Do you think I'd wittingly put one of my friend's in danger?" His hands curled into fists as he glared at the startled Rosmerta. "I bet we _both_ got lured into a trap! Someone knew we'd be sent to check out the reports of deatheaters and deliberately sent for us!" His face took on a sour look, "We're both too predictable! Rushing to the aid of anyone who needs us!"  
  
The barkeeper raised her eyebrows. "You never told me you were an auror, James." She said, her tone slightly accusatory, "If I'd known, I would have stopped them."  
  
"I know." James sighed, sitting down again so suddenly that it looked as though his legs had collapsed. "I know you would have Rosmerta, but…" He sighed again, suddenly looking much older, "…You can't trust anyone these days." Standing up again, he shot her a worried smile, "I think I'd better make contact with Dumbledore, he may have some idea of why Remus has been kidnapped…because I certainly don't."

********

Black watched Remus out of the corner of one eye as he sat on the end of the bed, absent-mindedly fiddling with the lock pick as he did so. "I'm amazed you haven't tried to escape yet." He remarked, almost reproachfully, turning his full gaze on his companion, who was busy inspecting the bookcase that was tucked away in one corner of the large room, pale fingers running over the many spines of the books.

"What would be the point?" Remus asked, turning away from the bookcase to meet Black's gaze, "We're in a castle in the middle of nowhere, with at least one other person who doesn't feel kindly towards me, I have no clue where I am, and I'm unarmed." He shrugged, "Seems pretty pointless, guess I'll just have to sit and wait quietly for death."  
  
Sirius stared at him for a moment, disbelief in his gaze. "What on _earth_ gave you the idea I was going to kill you?"  
  
"Hmm, let me seem could it have been the fact that I was threatened with a silver knife? Or maybe it was the fact that I was hauled off here against my will." Remus's tone of voice practically dripped with sarcasm as he met the confused silver gaze of his captor. "It all seems pretty self-explanatory to me." Despite his close scrutiny of Sirius's face, he was still surprised when the other man gave a small chuckle that gave way to a rippling laugh as he collapsed slowly backwards onto the bed, not bothering to hide his obvious amusement at the werewolf's ideas.

"Ohhh, that's rich," He wheezed, gasping for breath as he gazed up at his companion, eyes watering slightly as he continued to laugh, "I didn't do _half_ the 'wicked' things I could have done to you when you were caught, if you'd only put up a bit more of a fight." He smirked, laughter dying down to only the occasional snicker as he continued to stare up at Remus, "Those were only necessary precautions to make sure you _did_ come; somehow, I don't think Voldemort would have been very happy if I told him I was within three feet of you and decided to be _nice_, which would have allowed you to escape."  
  
"So you _are_ a deatheater," Remus muttered, trying to ignore the wolf, which had suddenly begun to pay close attention to the picture Black made sprawled on the bed, eyes shining, full of laughter, mouth open as he lay panting for breath, dark hair spread over the covers. "What on _earth_ do you want from me?" He mentally winced as the wolf cocked its head, staring out through his eyes with a strange, almost predatory interest that he'd not felt before. _Stop that_, he scolded mentally, _what on earth do you think you're doing?_ In return, the wolf retreated slightly, but continued to watch with interest as Black sat up, running a hand through his hair, the movement exposing his neck to interested scrutiny.

"Ahh, that would be telling." He teased, smirking slightly before standing up and trailing a finger down Remus's cheek, grey eyes still glittering, "But I'll tell you this, it's not _me_ that wants to talk to you so badly, that would be my master." He watched as golden eyes widened slightly in a half worried, half thoughtful gaze, before he smiled again, but not to reassure. "But, look on the positive side, you're not dead, and that's quite a feat when you're trapped in a castle with a great number of deatheaters." Teeth flashed in a grin before he turned away and, pulling out his wand, transfigured a part of the floor into a bed. "If you'll excuse me, I, like you, was up exceptionally early this morning, I think I'll turn in for a while before we go and meet my Lord, I suggest you get some rest too." So saying, he kicked his shoes off, and turned towards the bed.

"Don't bother trying to escape, either," He added, shooting Remus a look over his shoulder, "I've made _perfectly_ sure you can't get out…not even with this." He waved the lock pick before tossing it into a corner, along with the shoes and bent over to remove his socks.

Remus scowled at the man's back, deciding that whatever friendliness he'd felt towards him before, had just been tossed in the corner with the shoes. Black was his enemy, and, he reminded himself angrily, he intended to keep it that way. Anyone who had the pure nerve to kidnap him from right under James's nose, had to be a worthy opponent, and he had no intention of letting his guard down_. However_…golden eyes trailed slowly down the now exposed back as Black tossed his robe into one corner. _He's not our enemy_, the wolf inside him urged quietly, _he may act like one of them, but he is good…_Remus bit his lip, listening to his animal counterpart. _Remember what the strange man who smelt of death said, he told you he was good_.

_What, Black's father?_ Remus asked slightly surprised that the wolf could remember something like that.  
  
_Yes, he thought there was good in him…_

Remus was startled out of his inner debate when Black bent over to remove his trousers. "_What_ are you doing?" He asked, startling the other man.

Black spun around, looking slightly startled by the outburst. "Getting undressed," He said slowly, as though Remus was stupid, "that's what people tend to do before they go to sleep." He smirked at the irritated expression that flashed across the werewolf's face, before it became impassively calm.

"Look, Mr Black…"  
  


"Sirius."  
  
Remus eyed the man sourly, not wanting to show any sort of familiarity by using his captor's first name. "Mr…"  
  
"Sirius, or I simply ignore you until you call me by my name." Sirius smirked, knowing from the hard set of Remus's mouth that he had won at least this small argument.  
  


"Fine," Remus snapped, "Sirius. You may be my guard, -and in my opinion you don't make a very good one- but if you are to sleep in this room, you _will_ wear some sort of clothing when you go to bed." He raised one eyebrow as Sirius stared at him, mouth slightly open, before he shut it, and began to snicker again.

"Let me get this straight," He managed, "You're so modest…that you can't bear the thought of me with no clothes on?" His shoulders shook with pent up laughter as he tried to look solemnly at Remus. "I will, of course, respect your wishes." He managed, in a strained voice, and hurriedly turned away, still silently shaking with laughter, but only the occasional snicker escaped from under his hand, which was clamped tightly over his mouth. "If you'll excuse me," He said in a muffled voice, "I'm getting into bed now." And so saying, he drew back the covers and slid in, rolling onto his side, away from Remus.

After that there was silence, punctuated only by the occasional soft snicker from Sirius, and even these eventually elapsed, until all that could be heard was the sound of footsteps from time to time down the other end of the corridor.

Sighing, Remus peered out of the window, scanning the surrounding countryside, but all that could be seen was fields, and then the village, which was nestled on the side of a field some five miles away. _I wonder what's around the other side of the castle._ He thought grimly, _maybe there's more chance of an escape that way._ If there was only a wood, a patch of bushes even, his mind grasped the thought and held onto it, he could escape, hide, they wouldn't find him, but…he also admitted reluctantly, he would be incapable of defending himself without his wand.

Well…Black was asleep now, wasn't he? Remus had seen him put the wand back in his pocket, if he could reach it, he could stun Black and escape with no one the wiser.

Cautiously, Remus turned around, and crept towards the corner Black had thrown his robe in, pausing only when the other man rolled over once, muttering something unintelligible. Holding his breath, he trod softly across the floor, and silently picked up the cloth, searching for the pockets. Slipping his hand into the right hand pocket, he found nothing more than a fizzing whizzbee wrapper and a piece of parchment that had the words '12, hummingbird lane' and 'Wormtail' written on it. Discarding this, Remus dug, more frantically, into the left pocket, only to find assorted lock picks and a squashed jelly slug.

"No!" He hissed quietly, then froze when Black muttered again, flinging an arm over his own face, partially obscuring it from view. Biting his lip, Remus's gaze darted around the room, and eventually came to rest on Black's out flung hand where, gleaming in the light, was his wand. His eyebrows knitting together into an angry frown, Remus sidled over to the bed and peered down at the sleeping man. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and grabbed the tip of the wand between two fingers. Holding his breath, in case even that woke Black up, he gently tugged the wand. Black frowned in his sleep, and gripped the other end more tightly.

Carefully, Remus tried again, only to discover that the wand was now being gripped so tightly, that if he tugged with enough force, it would simply wake the sleeping man up. He gave one, final tug anyway, hoping that it would come free, but Black simply tightened his grip further, before cradling the wand to his chest, snoring slightly, his mouth hanging open a little bit.

Sighing in exasperation Remus sank down next to the bed, not bothering to walk across the room and sit in the chair. Angrily, he kicked the leg of the wooden structure, and wondered if he had just grabbed the wand and run, he might have still been out of the room before the man was fully awake. _The wards, though_, his rational side said, _just bide your time, wait for the wards to be lifted and **then** strike, see? It's pointless to have your wand until the guards on the door have gone, so sit back, make Black trust you, and then when everyone least expects it, escape._ Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he stared hard at the floorboards, _Yes, but how long will **that** take, I wonder?_

Rising to his knees again, he peered down at Black's face, which seemed much younger and more innocent when it was relaxed in sleep. _How do I get you to trust me?_ He wondered silently, eyeing his wand balefully, where it was pressed up against the skin of his unusual guard's chest. _You're a deatheater, you trust no one…you won't even tell me why I'm here… why I haven't been killed yet. And yet…and yet…I can't help **liking** you, as though you're my friend, and not the man who just kidnapped me. _Frowning, Remus rocked back on his heels as Black rolled completely onto his side, facing him entirely.

A bolt of recognition suddenly hit Remus as he stared at the passive face. _I remember you,_ he thought, feeling strangely dizzy, _I…I remember…_

_He and James were flying down the corridor at top speed towards charms. Already a good five minutes late, they didn't think it was wise to incur the wrath of their stern teacher Professor Feezle, by being a further five minutes late._

_"Almost…there…" James had panted, clutching a stitch in his side, and hauling his book bag back onto his shoulder with the other hand._

_"Hope…Feezle…not…mad…" Remus replied, not bothering to speak in full sentences, because he felt as though his lungs were on fire._

_Skidding around a corner, he'd charged headfirst into another student, knocking him to the ground, with a loud cry of "Hey! Watch it!" Books had gone tumbling everywhere, and both boys had toppled to the floor, landing with dull thuds on the flagstones. "Ouch!" The other boy had yelped, as James screeched to a halt just behind the human pile, "Watch where you're going!"  
  
"Sorry!" Remus had gasped hurriedly, leaping to his feet and beginning to gather the other boy's books up as fast as possible, "Charms…late…Feezle…" He explained, jamming them into the shocked boy's arms._

_"Hey, don't worry." The other boy had shot him a rather charming grin before passing some of his books to his friend, who had remained hitherto unseen, "It's probably my fault as well, I shouldn't have been tottering along behind this lot." He indicated the scattered books with a sweep of his hand, before raking his hair back from his eyes. "Leave it to me, I can manage, but you'd better get going, Feezle can be a real dragon if you're late." Another charming grin made an appearance and Remus, much to his surprise, felt himself blushing.  
  
"Yeah, thanks." He managed, grinning back and picking up the last of the books anyway, before turning to James, who was scowling. "Let's go."  
  
As they sprinted down another corridor, Remus heard James mutter, "Bloody Slytherins." And, shooting a glance over his shoulder, he saw the dark haired stranger sauntering away, his shorter companion in tow.  
  
"He didn't seem so bad," He'd remarked, just as they halted outside their classroom.  
  
"Yeah, well," James had said darkly, opening the door, "You can never tell…"  
  
_Remus blinked, and frowned at the man lying so peacefully in the bed, unperturbed by the sudden flash of memory his conscious companion had just witnessed. _It **was** you,_ he though quietly to himself, _you must have been a Slytherin in my year, or the year above…but how come that was the one time I saw you? Surely you must have been around, and Hogwarts isn't **that** big._ He sighed to himself and climbed to his feet, wincing at the stiffness that had developed in his knees. _Well, I guess I'll just have to ask_, he resolved silently, before padding over to his own bed and lying down as well.

_It's a step_, the wolf inside of him thought approvingly, _find out more about him, because if you find out about someone's past, you find out how their mind works._

_And why do you care?_ Remus argued inside his own head, _you're just a wolf, admittedly, you're a **were**wolf, but you're still more animal than human._

The wolf remained studiously silent, and instead, sent the mental image of Sirius stripping off his robe. _He looks nice_, it replied eventually, actually sounding thoughtful, _and there's something we both trust about him. If we stay with him, I doubt much can harm us._

_Oh, got it all sorted out, have you? _Remus asked, scathingly, _I'm so glad I was consulted._

The wolf didn't bother to reply, but Remus sensed a vague feeling of smugness that he wasn't entirely happy with. Grumbling to himself, he rolled onto his side and scowled at the wall opposite him.  

********

Dumbledore listened, his expression grim as James related all he knew, including the appearance of the kidnapper.

Behind him, Mcgonagall sank into one of the low seated armchairs, her face pale and her hands trembling as she listened to her colleague's story. Slowly, her mouth began to thin until it was a tight line, and her back became straighter, her eyes narrowing as she shared a glance with Dumbledore over the top of James's head. They both knew, she thought angrily, they both _knew_ this would happen, but instead of trying to stop it or avoid it, they appeared to have plunged headlong into the whole messed up situation.

"…And the main thing is, I don't even have any idea _why_ they kidnapped Remus." James finished angrily, raking a hand distractedly through his hair, "I mean, if they simply wanted aurors, they could have just as easily got me as well! And instead of the usual instant death, he gets carted off by someone who has gone to immense trouble to _conceal_ their identity as a deatheater, rather than flaunt it, which is what they usually do!" Something in the atmosphere must have registered in his brain, because he turned his sharp, brown eyes on Mcgonagall, before returning them to Dumbledore.

"You both know something." He stated flatly, not even bothering to make it a question.

"Yes." Dumbledore admitted softly, his gaze never wavering as he looked squarely at James, "Yes, we know something."  
  


"Well? _What?_" James demanded, his hands clenching into fists, "It's obviously important, and if it can help to save Remus's life…"  
  
"That problem," Mcgonagall interrupted gently, "Is already out of our hands. None of us can save Lupin now."  
  
_To Be Continued…_

_Big thanks to…_

**Zdarkz** – Thanks, you're makin' me blush *grins* **Jeswin** – Thank you, everything will be explained…in time. ^_~  **Jasini** – Oooh, thank you.  **Ophel**** Mcneil** - *Hugs* Thanks, I'll keep updating, honestly! Marauders honour! **Karno**** – L** – Aw, thanks for all your lovely encouragement! **Cynder** – Thanks, I'm glad people find it interesting! ^.^  **Anon** – Thank you, I'm continuing. **Moonlight – Destiny** – Yep, more S/R scenes coming up soon, 'cause I love them too. ^_~ Glad someone else does! **Cloud** – Keeping going…not stopping…uhhh… *Peers down at the smashed fic* We~ll, I dropped it, but it can be repaired. ^_~ Thanks! **StarWolf** – Heheheh, I'm carrying on with it now, and don't worry, it WILL get fluffier! *Glomps Sirius before shoving Sirius and Remus together and scowling defiantly at JKR* **S** – Ahh, this is actually quite fast for me! You should see the poor people foaming at the mouth for an update of 'Making Waves' *giggles* I'm getting death threats. **Dlyope** – Oh thanks for the lovely offer, but I'm ok! However…*looks thoughtful* Would you mind betaing for me?


	4. Chapter Four

**CB:** Much love to all you wonderful reviewers, your hounding has forced me into writing the next chapter much faster than I normally would…that and I got a flash of sudden inspiration whilst I was working with the puppies last week at the dog training centre. There were two in particular… ^_~  
  


**Warning:** One, final warning: this fic is now officially headed into the SLASH zone. Yes, Houston, we've made 'contact', it's not much, but it's there. So push off if you don't like it, god never made me tolerant.

**Dedication: **To Paddy and Moony, the two four week old pups, whose cuteness and strange obsession with biting each other, led to the production of this next chapter as 'Aunty Cobalt' looked after them…and let them chew her and her clothes to pieces.

_'Long after we are gone ... our voices will linger in these walls for as long as this place remains. But I will admit ... that the part of me that is going ... will very much miss the part of you that is staying.' – Anon_

Remus found himself being prodded into wakefulness by long, slender fingers.

Opening sleepy golden eyes, he found himself face to face with Sirius Black, who was leaning over him, no more than a few, scant inches away, his black hair trailing over his shoulders as he peered down at Remus, an odd, worried expression on his face. The expression vanished, however, the moment he saw that his captive was properly awake, and instead, it was replaced with the usual one of slight, sardonic amusement as he straightened up, still peering down at the werewolf.

"Finally, I thought you'd _never_ wake up." He commented, running a hand through his long, dark hair and walking lightly across the room to the wardrobe. "You're certainly a very heavy sleeper." He added, throwing open the two doors and digging around in the dark, musty depths of the furniture. "Mind you, I'm surprised you even dared to fall asleep, being trapped in a room with such a dangerous individual as I." He turned around, holding a fresh robe and grinned. "Here, put this on." Throwing the robe at Remus, he turned to the wardrobe again, digging out another for himself. 

Remus caught the robe, his expression unchanging as he sat up and regarded his captor's back sourly. "What's the point? I'm not exactly going anywhere."  
  
"Wrong." Sirius replied cheerfully, "We've been summoned to the hall."

"How –?" Remus began, puzzled, but Black cut him off again with an impatient wave of his hand.

"Doesn't matter…now…are you hungry?" He grinned and sauntered over to the table that rested in one corner, his new robe still clutched in one hand. Leaning over the two bowls that had been placed there, he inhaled happily, making a contented sound. "Mm, Cilia's always been a good cook, but I think she's surpassed herself here." Picking one of the bowls up, he offered it to Remus. "Here, neither of us have eaten since this morning." Picking up the other bowl and a crusty loaf of bread, he came and sat down next to Remus on the bed, and began spooning up the vegetable broth from the bowl. "It's nice." He offered to Remus, who was poking dubiously at the swimming vegetables. Shrugging, Sirius turned his attention to the loaf. Tearing it in half, he offered part of it to his silent companion.

The cloud of fragrant steam that arose from the warm, freshly cooked loaf reached Remus's nose, and his stomach gave a low grumble of discontent. Hastily, he took the proffered bread, refusing to meet the amused gaze that was burning into his face. "Thank you."

"Hey, no problem," Sirius munched contentedly on the bread for a moment, his eye flitting around the room. "Why don't we go down to the village later?" He added, setting his bowl to one side and getting up again, "It's market day tomorrow, I think."

Remus stared at him for a moment, half wondering if the other man was deliberately being this stupid. "You want to take me…to a market." He managed faintly, and then stared in utter disbelief when Sirius nodded cheerfully. "Aren't you worried that I'll try and _escape_?" He set his bowl aside as well, and stood up, wincing as the muscles in his back protested loudly about the awkward angle he'd been sleeping in. "I mean, I must admit that you're not at all what I would have expected if I had known I was going to be kidnapped by a deatheater and then imprisoned, but don't you think that going out in broad daylight is a bit stupid, even for _you_?" He scowled and pulled the crumpled robe off over his head, reaching for the clean one Sirius had tossed him.

Sirius perched on the edge of the table, eyeing him thoughtfully. "You know, you're not bad looking," he said, carefully avoiding answering the question Remus had just asked him.

Flushing, Remus hastily pulled the robe over his head and glared at Sirius. "There's such a thing as _modesty_ you know!" He smoothed the robe, down, still trying his best to ignore the heat in his cheeks that reminded him he was blushing.

His captor shrugged. "I've never had much use for it, myself." He said, standing up and striding across the room to open the door. "Modesty gets you nowhere." Ignoring his companion's snort, he bent close to the keyhole and murmured a string of words, all of which sounded completely foreign to Remus, who raised an eyebrow in surprise when he recognized the pronunciation.

"Gaelic?" He asked, staring at Sirius, "I didn't know you were Irish."

The dark haired man shrugged. "I'm not," he blinked, and then corrected himself, "Well, I _am_, but only half, my mother was Irish, but my father was English." He sighed, and for a moment his face held a pained expression, although his eyes betrayed a great deal of bitterness as well. "Come on," He said, abruptly turning back to the door and pushing it open with perhaps more force than was entirely necessary, "We're expected."

"Expected where?" Remus hurried to catch up, his shoes making a soft scuffing noise as he followed Sirius down the corridor. "Who wants to talk to me?" Irritated when he received no reply, he put on a final burst of speed and caught up with the other man. Grabbing his arm, he spun him around so they were facing one another. "Look, Black, I don't know who you think you are, but you had the gall to kidnap me and _I want some answers_." Remus didn't realize until it was too late, that he was all but growling, his eyes flashing fiery gold as his lips drew back to reveal his sharp, white teeth.

His anger drained away as quickly as it had come as he realized he had all but lost control. Belatedly, he released Sirius's arm, turning half away from him to look up the corridor. "I'm sorry, I lost my temper." He said softly, not meeting the other man's gaze.

Hey, we all do from time to time." Sirius shrugged, his face taking on a strangely gentle expression as he reached out to grip Remus's chin between two long fingers, "Don't worry about it." He added, before releasing the surprised werewolf and turning hurriedly away. "Now come on, we really _are_ expected." He stalked quickly off up the corridor, his shoulders slightly hunched, as though he was cold.

********

James was nearly crying in frustration as he glared at Dumbledore. "Tell. Me." He gritted out from between clenched teeth.

Sitting in Dumbledore's office, despite the comfort of the armchair he was perched on, James looked far from comfortable, in fact, he simply looked furious. Behind him, Mcgonagall was standing, her posture rigid and her lips pressed together in a thin, hard line as she frowned at the back of James's head. Her eyes flitted up to glance briefly at Dumbledore, who was sitting calmly behind his desk, surveying the young man over the top of his half moon spectacles.

"There is not much to tell, I'm afraid," The old man said calmly, not meeting Mcgonagall's gaze as he continued to watch James, "Because we do not know a lot."

"Then tell me what you _do_ know." James's mouth tightened as Dumbledore sighed, and he stood up so suddenly that he knocked the armchair over. "TELL ME! Look, Remus may be _dying_ out there! He may already be dead! And I'll be _damned_ if I'm just going to sit around and wait to find out what's happened to him…_if_ we ever find out!" Breathing heavily, he stalked across the room and stared out of the window, his body taught with tension as he glared at the scenic countryside.

Dumbledore carefully took his glasses off and placed them on the desk. "Very well," He said slowly, "I'll tell you as much as we know. For a year now, Voldemort's been collecting Werewolves into his service, we're not entirely sure why. Some of them go voluntarily to him, some do not, but all of them seem to be being used for a spell of some sort. I believe it is because Lord Voldemort is searching for something that will make him immortal." James started and spun around to stare at the wizard, his face now lined with worry as Dumbledore gave a small but anxious smile. "I also believe that he has found a spell that will do that for him, _however_, it obviously needs something that only a werewolf can give – the final ingredient perhaps." Dumbledore frowned, looking pensive, "It could be blood, but whatever it is, so far he has not found it."  
  
"Blood!" James sputtered, looking horrified, "So he's going to _kill_ Remus!"

"I don't know," Dumbledore replied gravely, "Perhaps, but perhaps not. You must remember, this is all speculation, dear boy."

In the background, Mcgonagall nodded, her own face lined with worry. "However," She interjected, "The question remains as to who actually _kidnapped_ Remus. Find the deatheater, and no doubt we find our companion."

James looked at both of them, determination written across his features.

"Leave it to me."

********

Fear was almost tangible in the large, cold hall as Remus was led towards the center of it. Fear of what, he wasn't certain, but fear nonetheless. The scent of it hung thick and heavy on the air, half choking him with its coppery tang as it crept into the folds of his robes, into his mouth, his nose, his ears, suffocating him. Walking beside him, Sirius' lips were pressed together into a thin line as he stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with Remus or the half a dozen death eaters that were scattered around the room. 

A chair had been placed in the center of the room. It was high backed and well polished, so the light reflected off its surface, gleaming darkly. It was turned away from the two men, towards the fire and appeared, to the untrained eye, to be empty.

Sirius stopped a few feet from the chair, indicating Remus should do the same and waited; a closed expression on his face.

"Come." Apparently the chair wasn't empty after all, and the cold, high and above all _cruel_ voice that emanated from it sent shivers racing down the werewolf's spine. He knew that voice, most people did, even though they'd never heard it with their own ear. Rumor traveled, and the rumors about _this_ man were many.

Lord Voldemort.

Remus' knees locked and his mouth went dry, even as Sirius began to walk towards the chair. After a few steps, the sable haired man seemed to realize he wasn't being followed and turned back. Taking Remus's hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, he towed him towards the chair. Pulling him around in front of it, he paused, giving Remus's hand one final, almost imperceptible, squeeze before taking a couple of paces backwards. "Remus Lupin, my lord."

 Heart pounding so hard he thought everyone in the room could hear it, Remus raised his eyes to look at the dark lord.

His first impression was that of a snake. A pale, narrow face was turned towards him, its blood red eyes drilling into his own, the body of Voldemort was lean and coiled with energy, looking nothing so much as a serpent who is intent of striking its prey. He had long, slender fingers that would probably have no difficulty in wielding a wand, and from the way he studied Remus, the werewolf knew that an incredibly sharp mind lay behind the icy appearance.

"Ah, Lupin," Voldemort smiled, and Remus was startled to see that a hint of this evil man's original handsomeness still remained.  **(1) **"So my faithful friend found you, did he?" He shot Sirius, who was standing quite still, an approving look. "I don't suppose you have any idea why you're here?" One slender finger rose, almost as though in admonishment before Remus could open his mouth, "But of course not, and I have no intention of explaining. Ask any of my followers and they will tell you the same…it is fruitless to question your presence here." He made a swift, caressing gesture, and Remus realized he was stroking a snake, which was curled around the arm of the chair. "Now," and the voice was suddenly commanding, "Look at me."

Startled, Remus felt his eyes rising of their own volition to stare into the blood red eyes. Struggling, he tried to tear his gaze away, and found to his horror that he couldn't. Voldemort's stare was hypnotic, pulling him into a swirling maelstrom as he felt the wizard rummaging around in his head – an icy, unwelcome, frightening presence. He was trembling and he didn't even realize until Voldemort smiled, and turned his head to look across the room, freeing him at last.

"Yes, Lupin, you will do…you will do nicely."

It was a dismissal as well as a statement, and Remus felt hands pulling him backwards out of the room, half carrying him when they realized he wasn't capable of standing on his own when that much power had just touched him. It wasn't until he was outside that he realized Sirius had remained behind. He shivered, wrapping his robe tighter around his body as one of the deatheaters – a short, plump little man with a pointed nose – told him to stay where he was until he was either called back into the hall, or someone came out to escort him to his chamber.

Inside the hall, Sirius was still standing in the same place, although his mask of indifference had dropped slightly.

"Well?"

Voldemort smiled cruelly and stood up, placing one slender hand on the deatheater's shoulder. "You have done exceptionally well my friend, you have fulfilled your mission perfectly." He released his grip and turned away for a moment, staring into the fire with unseeing eyes. "This one is perfect, he is _exactly_ what I need, but he has to give his…help…willingly." Red eyes turned to regard Sirius, who raised one eyebrow.

"And you want me to convince him?"

Voldemort shrugged, "It matters not who convinces him, but I want you to be his keeper. Guard him, make sure he doesn't escape, earn his trust." He turned back, his eyes cold and calculating, "I've placed a binding spell on him, it is subtle enough that he will not realize it is there, but he will be unable to go far without you." At Sirius's nod, he continued, "You know what I want, my friend, you must not fail…do whatever it takes."

The other ebony eyebrow rose, "I am allowed to use whatever means…necessary?"

"Your thoughts betray you, but yes, you have my permission."

Sirius bowed, smiling. "Thank you, my lord."

********

"It's huge," Remus breathed the next day, awe lighting his face as he stared up at one of the massive chunks of rock that stood on the heath, "How on _earth_ did they ever get it this far?"

Sirius, who was lounging on the grass, gave a careless shrug. "No idea, although the druids could well have used magic…that's always been the wizarding theory at any rate." He smiled and stretched, before laying back, his arms folded behind his head. "Looks like it's going to rain," he commented to no one in particular.

"Mm," Remus wasn't paying attention to the other man, as he continued to stare at the huge ring of stones, "I wonder who worshipped here?"

Sirius, who had closed his eyes, cracked one open to look up at him. "Oh, lots of people; originally it was built in the stone age, but people right up into the end of the Celtic era sacrificed people here." He smiled in a not sot comforting manner, "The druids used to perform the sacrifice in the center. The blood of the victim would appease the gods and help to bring in a bountiful harvest."

"Druids?" Remus turned away from the henge **(2)** to stare at Sirius, "What exactly were they?" 

Sirius sat up and tossed his leather jacket to one side. They'd come on the bike, at his insistence that Remus should see Stonehenge, and they'd both had to wear muggle clothes in case they were spotted. "The druids were a select bunch of religious leaders who were around even in Celtic times. The ordinary people believed they could converse with the gods, and so, in effect, they were like messengers. The druids were very similar to priests; they conducted the ceremonies dedicated to the gods, acted as oracles and occasionally performed ritual sacrifice." Sirius smiled, combing his long hair back from his face with his fingers, "They wore plain white tunics and were allowed to practice magic."

Remus stared at him, fascinated. "How do you know all this?" He asked curiously.

"My…mother." Sirius turned his head, staring out over the flat land.

Remus bit back the sharp retort that could have shouted down Sirius's grief ridden sentence – that _he_ was the one who'd killed his parents in the first place, and it was a bit late to regret it now. Instead, he turned back to stare at the massive structure again. "It really is quite amazing," He said reverentially, "It must have been awe inspiring when it was first built."

A low rumble of thunder on the horizon spoke of the fast approaching storm, but Sirius didn't seem too concerned as he turned his head back to face Remus, expression void of emotion once more. "There's an interesting legend about when this was first built," He said, patting one of the huge stones affectionately, "Pretty interesting, all things considered." When Remus stared at him, he continued. "Apparently, to dedicate this to the gods, a worthy sacrifice had to be found, but every person the druids picked would be deemed unworthy in some way or another, whether through accidental shedding of their own blood, loss of virginity etcetera. Well, the druids had begun to panic, because the henge was nearly complete, and they had not found a proper sacrifice to honor the gods.

"Then, one of their number, a young man, began to vanish at odd times in the night. Well, the other druids began to become suspicious, wondering whether he was the cause of the bad luck. So, one night they followed him. What they discovered was that he had a lover, a young man from a neighboring tribe. Such a union was forbidden for a druid, particularly if the chosen lover was from an enemy clan, and so the young druid and his lover were the pair chosen to be sacrificed.

"But the gods were angry, and struck at the land and the druids for their abomination, making the soil infertile for ten generations of the race of men." **(3)**

Remus didn't realize he'd been hanging onto every word the black haired man said, until he stopped. Sighing, he – surprisingly – sat down next to Sirius, his expression at once bittersweet and somber. "That was beautiful," He said softly, "I never knew that legend." He gave a small half smile, idly plucking at several strands of grass that fluttered in the increasing wind.

"Mm." Sirius replied, tilting his head back as the first drops of rain began to fall, splashing around both of them in increasing numbers.

Glancing sideways at him, Remus was suddenly transfixed with the sudden vision of Sirius clad in only a white tunic that was belted at the waist with an embroidered leather cord. His dark hair was free and flying in the wind that whipped up the side of the hill, and his face was raised to the pouring heavens, as if in supplication for his previous acts.

_Druid_, he thought dizzily, rubbing a hand across his eyes, trying to dispel the image, which vanished as suddenly as it had occurred, _he looked like a druid_.

Sirius, oblivious to all this, stood up, his t-shirt sticking to his body as the rain continued to soak both of them. "Come on," He said, extending his hand to the surprised werewolf, "We'd better get back."

********

_He sat up with a start, the bedclothes sticking to his body as his hair clung to the back of his neck, damp with sweat. The candle had burnt low, which was odd, but even by its half light, he could see what had woken him._

_Sirius was crouched at the end of his bed, his long, dark hair trailing over his shoulders, reflecting the light from the dying fire. The white shirt he was wearing was long, covering bare thighs, and the collar was open.  His skin gleamed, and his eyes shone in the darkness, glittering with a dark intent as he tilted his head to one side, silently regarding the confused werewolf. Inside, the wolf howled as it witnessed that strange, almost canine gesture._

_'Pounce', it whispered, 'take, pleasure, **ours**…' Shuddering, Remus sat up, one hand clutching the bedclothes to him holding on to some form of control as he struggled not to give in to the dark urges that flowed so close to the surface. 'No,' he replied silently, feeling dizzy as he watched feverishly bright eyes caress his skin with their gaze, 'no, this one is not ours, leave him, we do not need him. He is our enemy.'_

_The wolf struggled harder, howling in frustration. 'No! Ours! Must be! Posses!' it scrabbled within the depths of his soul and Remus swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving the man crouched before him._

_'No…'_

_'**Yes**!'_

_'Not ours…"_

_'Will be, make him!'_

_'He's an enemy…'_

_'No, ours, no enemy, **wants** us…'_

_As if reading his thoughts, Sirius shifted slightly, his eyes never leaving Remus's face as he slowly crawled nearer until he was kneeling on hands and knees right in front of him, his face scant inches from the other's. His full lips parted slightly in a silent sigh as he carefully brought one hand up to caress the pale cheek of the shocked werewolf._

_"What are you doing, Black?" He spat, shifting backwards slightly, but the other man only smiled, making no sound as he crawled even nearer, until he was straddling Remus's lap. Closing his eyes, he bent his head, nuzzling the juncture of bare, pale skin between neck and shoulder. Inhaling, he smiled softly, his lips barely grazing the tender flesh as he let out a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan._

_"Bla– S…Sirius?" Remus shivered as warm breath washed over the skin of his shoulder, and the other man shifted even closer, lifting his head slightly so hot –strangely hot, Remus realized dizzily– lips touched the skin of one ear._

_"Come to me."_

_Sirius's voice was strange, husky, slightly breathless as though he'd been jogging, but gentle at the same time, wanting, no…**needing** Remus realized with a strange sense of something that bordered on satisfaction. "Come to me, we need you, I need you…fall with me into darkness, worship the powerful one, join with us, we'll protect you." Drawing back slightly, Sirius stared deep into his eyes, as though he was reading his soul. "I know you want to…the wolf, he yearns for it." He tilted his head back, exposing the slim column of his throat, offering, a silent supplication, a strange, almost worshipful expression on his face._

_He looked debauched, fallen, a strangely sinful angel reflected by nothing more than shadows and firelight, yet at the same time, Remus knew he was real, tangible, if he reached out, he would be able to touch him. But to touch that bronzed skin would be to mar it, it would taint the perfection of the moment, take away the sanctity of the man kneeling before him, looking for all the world like he was offering himself to the pagan gods he had told the other about only a few, short hours ago._

_'He should have been a priest,' Remus thought dreamily, unreality crashing over him in waves, 'he would have preached hell and damnation and people would have **listened**, they would have believed, because the brightness of his soul would have scorched theirs, touched their minds and hearts.' But even as he thought the words, he felt the surreal sense that they were not at all like him, and in one, shining moment, he felt free of himself and realized that he, too, must be burning with that holy-and-yet-not light that caused him to think like this, to understand what was truly happening._

_And then the moment was over, and quite suddenly, the gray eyes were turned towards him once more, burning into his face with their heated gaze as their owner parted his lips, framing one, soft word._

_"Please." _

_And that was all it took. The restraints Remus had been building up snapped and he felt his defensive walls crumble. Even as he reached out to touch a strand of the black, shimmering hair, he heard himself growl, a primitive, animal sound that came from low in his throat. _

_When he heard this, Sirius whimpered, throwing his head back once more, so his face was illuminated in sharp relief by the flickering firelight. His eyes were shut, the lashes caressing the skin of his high cheekbones, his lips were slightly parted and Remus could see the pulse hammering in the hollow of his throat as he allowed his hair to be touched. His neck and one shoulder was bare, the simple, white shirt having slipped sideways, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly as one of Remus's hands crept up to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck, forcing him to open his eyes and look at the werewolf._

_'Ours,' the wolf howled inside, sounding almost joyful as it regarded Sirius through Remus's eyes, 'ours, whether he knows it or not.'_

_ The slender fingers twined restlessly through the silky skeins of hair, and Sirius regarded him, his eyes wide in his face as he watched the werewolf scrutinize him, searching for a sign that only he knew of. Suddenly, as if that sign had been found, the golden head tilted upwards and soft lips were pressed against his own, not gently, however, but with a fierce, almost startling passion and more than a hint of dominance as the wolf showed through for the first time in the smaller man's actions._

_For Remus it was everything and nothing at once, a blaze of contradictions and the feeling that the sun had burst behind his eyelids. Icy fire raced through his veins as the other man parted his lips, allowing his tongue to sweep in, drinking in his flavor. The wolf savored it, rewarding the man above them with gentle, open mouthed kissed that insistently nudged his lips further and further apart, until it felt as though he was devouring Sirius, drinking his essence into himself, and still it wasn't enough._

_Sirius's fingers were gripping tightly onto his arms, long, slender fingers leaving bruises as his nails dug into the tender skin on the inside of elbows, but whether he was restraining Remus or encouraging him, neither could say. The soft, half formed pleas that fell from his lips in between insistent kisses, spoke of the latter._

_And then, suddenly, Sirius was muttering in Gaelic again, the flowing words tumbling from his mouth as he rained kisses down on Remus's upturned face, his eyes vague with pleasure as he gripped the slender arms tighter. His hair tumbled like a black waterfall down his back as he stared down at the golden eyes that were watching him hungrily, reflecting the thoughts and feelings of the man below him as they whirled in a confused maelstrom of emotions, each darting briefly across the pale, expressive face._

_Hunger, fear, want, panic, desire, need, anger, calm, peace, lust… it went on and on, a never ending cycle of feelings and Sirius watched it all through eyes that were blazing silver as he felt the different emotions that were emanating off of this fascinating creature. Drinking them in, he felt them almost as strongly as their owner, as though they were his own, and the strength of each one sank into his skin, as though they were water, and he was the thirsty flower._

_Remus buried his face in the smooth, cotton covered shoulder, feeling the rapid thundering of the heart that lay so close to his cheek. Making a small, contented sound, he nuzzled the tender skin, feeling Sirius shifting above him, the cool hands suddenly pressing against his forehead as the rich voice chanted a word and then the world span once, twice, and he collapsed backwards into darkness, his last conscious memory was of soft laughter that followed him into the well of his subconscious…_

********

…Remus awoke with a start, his heart pounding as his eyes flitted wildly around the darkened room.  The candle was burning brightly, and by its light he saw that the fire was still well banked, throwing its light all around the room. _'Just a dream,_' he thought, lying back against the pillows with a small sigh of relief as he felt his heart rate beginning to slow and the sweat on his body cool rapidly in the cold room.

He was on the verge of sleep when his half closed eyes wandered across the room to land on the bed Sirius usually occupied. It was empty, the covers thrown back and crumpled, as though its occupant had left the room in a hurry. Sitting up, Remus regarded the empty bed for a long moment, frowning as he wondered just where Sirius had gone at this time of night. When no answer emerged in his mind, he reached out to pour a glass of water from the pitcher by his bed, hoping that it would help him sleep.

The sight of the scratches on his inner arm made him drop the glass of water with a crash.

********

He sat in the window seat of the old library, his knees drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on them. His long black hair fell like a curtain around his face as he stared blankly out of the window, pale in the moonlight. The silence in the room was all encompassing, it was practically visible, and he, sitting there, seemed to be a part of that silence. It radiated off him in waves as his eyes stared at something that was not visible to the ordinary eye. The grass outside was rippling gently in the breeze, looking for all the world like the sea, its waves crashing against the side of the castle.

But for all the silver, the only thing he could see was gold.

Gold eyes reflecting their emotions, clouded with desire.

Gold hair glittering in the firelight as though it was made from the finest silk threads.

A golden soul, that seemed to call out to his own.

But no, he shook himself mentally; he should not think of such things, he should plan his next move, now that he knew the werewolf was susceptible. He had been instructed to use any means necessary, and that was what he would do, whether it was with mind or body. He would not fail his master simply because he was becoming more attached to this one than some of the other prisoners. 

Clenching his fists, he pressed them to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, as though trying to block out whatever image he was currently seeing.

_"You must not fail…do whatever it takes…"_

"Damn it." He hissed into the silence of the room.

_To Be Continued…_  

**(1)** I know dear old Voldie isn't really handsome in the books, but I felt like making him look at least a little nice. It makes a change from all bad guys being ugly, anyway.

**(2)** The 'henge' I'm referring to is Stonehenge, probably one of England's most famous landmarks and a massive tourist attraction in summer. It was built in the Stone Age, and was used, archaeologists believe, as a temple or religious ground where sacrifices took place. The most famous religious cult to use it was the druids. If you ever go to England, see it, it's honestly worth it, because it's an absolutely amazing sight, and the surrounding countryside is beautiful too. (Hey, I live in England, and even the countryside in Kent isn't as wild and untamablewith such a lawless beauty.)

**(3)** No, this is only a legend that is partly true, not all of it is real. Yes there was a young druid, yes he took a male lover, but no, they weren't sacrificed…and the legend isn't one that's usually associated with Stonehenge.

_Many thanks to…_

Jasini – LOL! ^_^ Say his to Sirius and Remus for me! Many thanks my dear! *Hugs* zdarkz – Thanks, I'm continuing now, sadly, there's more suspense…sorry! . Akurei Hikari – Thank you. Ilith – Never fear my dear, everyone I've spoken to thinks he's not really dead, I have to agree with them, there's hope yet. Thanks for the lovely review! Dlyope - *Hugs* Thanks, I'll start sending you the stuff from the next chapter! Glad someone else who supports slash is a Christian, I was starting to feel like the only one! ^_^ Thanks for the recommendation, I'll look into it immediately! Falcon Zanbandia of Nightmares – I'm continuing now, thanks for the encouragement! Cruel Angel5  - *Blushes* Aw, thanks! Your review really touched me (and severely boosted my ego! ^.^) And I'm updating now! Silver Shadows2 – Thanks, I'm updating now! Along Came the Spider – Thank you, I'm glad you approve, o0o – Sirius – o0o – (Love the name!) Thank you! Katherine5 – Thank you! And yep, there is going to be a snog and snuggle, I promise, I'm too much of a fluff queen to do without it. ^-^ chimerical - *Hugs* Aww, thanks! Lady Geuna – Don't worry, dear Sirius will be making Remus feel very awkward in later chapters! ^_~ Thanks for the review! Julie – I've updated, I hope you're not too disappointed! Ladriel  - My thanks, your review was wonderful. I'm honoured that you chose to read my fic if you don't bother to read slash fiction that often, and I only hope that you continue to do so! *Hugs* SxL – always - *Bows* Thanks for putting me on your favorite's list! Glad you're enjoying this. Yukirei – Thanks! Cinnamin911 – Yep, there's going to be a lemon *Cackles wickedly* just because you asked for one! ^_^ Thanks for your support and encouragement! BlueIce – I won't abandon it, I promise! And I haven't really abandoned Making Waves, I will go back to it at some point! *Hugs* Don't cry! The Demonic Duo – Thanks, glad I've got you interested! BluX  - Thank you, glad you love it! ^_^

_Thanks to everyone, so many reviews… you're all so wonderful!  
Cobalt_


	5. Chapter Five

**CB:** Right, I updated as quickly as I could, so I hope you all appreciate the chapter. (Thank you all so very, very much for reviewing!)  
  
  


_'My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late!_

_Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy.' **Romeo and Juliet**_

****

"Are you…sure?" The rat faced man wheezed as he hurried up the spiral staircase after his companion. "What if you…misread the…signs?" He clutched his side and paused on a small landing, panting heavily. "Can we _please_ stop for a moment?"

Sirius paused and turned to shoot the man an affectionate grin. "You need to keep fit, my repulsive friend, then you wouldn't have a problem keeping up."

"Repulsive?" The man panted, managing to sound offended in between gasps for air. "That's…not a nice thing…to say!"

Sirius grinned again, shrugging. "When have I ever pretended to be _nice_, Peter my lad? _Nice_ is something that doesn't come into my vocabulary."

"I know." Peter muttered as he once more began hurrying after his friend – trying to compete with the other's long strides. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were related to Snape in some way. Stupid greasy bat that he is." He clutched his side, wincing as the muscles there began to cramp from exertion. "And now, on top of everything, I have a stitch. Thank you, Sirius, I'm so glad you dragged me out of bed this early just so I could enjoy a nice long climb to the top of a deserted tower in your inconsiderate and often psychotic company."

"You're welcome," Came the cheerful reply, as Sirius at last threw open the door that led out onto the platform at the top of the stone tower.

The sun was just beginning to paint the treetops and lawn red as it emerged in a sultry orange ball from behind the horizon. It caught the dew on the grass, reflecting it back in a blazing crimson inferno that looked strangely like blood. The light struck the eyes hard, burning them until a person – if they were not prepared for it – was dazzled to the point of blindness.

Peter blinked, trying to dispel the many coloured lights now flashing in front of his eyes, as Sirius drew in a deep breath, exhaling happily at the fresh, crisp, clean scent of the clear morning air. "This, Pete, is why I would never live in any other country in the world." He said happily, his breath misting in front of his face in little clouds of steam. "You can never beat this."

"You've got that bloody right." Peter shivered miserably and huddled into the slight warmth of his thin coat. "Nowhere else in the world is as freezing first thing in the morning; you _can't_ beat that."

Sirius laughed and leant against the parapet, tossing his hair back so it caught the blood red light, staining the black a strange crimson as well. "You really should try to look on the more positive side of things, Peter."

  
"What's there to be positive about?" His friend grumbled. "Snape just moved up the ranks, I'm still no nearer to cracking that blasted system the Ministry is using in owls, you've made no progress with that werewolf…"

"What?" Sirius started, his expression changing swiftly from open, to guarded and wary, "Remus?" 

"Mm," Peter nodded and leant back against the wall, still panting for air. "Rumour has it that things aren't going too well. In fact, a little bird told me, that you hadn't made any progress at all."

"Ahh, by 'little bird' I presume we mean Bella." Sirius' mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. "Sounds exactly like something she'd try to spread." He laughed at Peter's worried expression, "It was her, wasn't it? Admit it! She's been running up and down the castle badmouthing me!" For some reason – one that was unknown to Peter – he actually sounded pleased about this.

"Well…"

Sirius sighed and shook his head, his face set in an expression of exaggerated woe. "Ah! These family members! We, the most noble and ancient house of Black, are a conniving, backstabbing lot, are we not?" Not waiting for Peter to reply, he continued, "When we're not spreading lies and rumours about one another, we're planning how to steal the fame and fortune of a hapless relative. It's a good job I'm never getting married, Peter, no woman would put up with my family for more than a week before she ran home screaming."

"Well, your parents –" Peter began, then stopped hurriedly when he realised he'd accidentally strayed onto what could only have been called a 'sore spot'. Before Sirius could either work himself up into a fit of temper, or down into the depths of misery, another voice broke the sudden, cold silence. 

"Well, what have we here? The rodent and the cur; my, what a lovely pair you make."

"Lucius," Sirius nodded, acknowledging the newcomer's presence, though not his welcome. "What brings you out this early?"

"Ah." Lucius Malfoy smiled; his expression one of self satisfied smugness. "A little bird told me that I might find you here."  
  
"Bellatrix," Sirius rolled his eyes in disgust and turned away, looking out over the castle grounds instead. "I swear to god, that woman never keeps her mouth shut."

"That's as maybe, but she was very helpful in finding you." Lucius stepped closer, leaning on the parapet beside the irritated deatheater – Peter all but forgotten as he turned his full attention on Sirius. "I wanted to talk to you about your conduct, Black, It's not acceptable."

"Ohhh, my conduct's not acceptable? That's today's little issue is it?" Sirius' voice was dripping with disdain. "Well, that _does_ make a change. The other day it was Snape telling me it was my appearance, the day before that it was Lestrange telling me that my voice was too loud…"

"Spare me your life's story." Lucius raised one gloved hand, delicately cutting off the flow of angry words before they could proceed any further. "I simply ask that you…behave in a slightly more acceptable manner."

Sirius' ground his teeth together, fighting to keep a tight rein on his temper as his previous good mood began to evaporate rapidly. "Tell me, _Lucius_, what makes you think there is even the slightest thing wrong with my conduct? I get the job done, whether my methods are traditional or not, which is more than what half the apes in this god forsaken ruin can claim! So what if I'm a little unconventional?"

"A little?" Lucius was beginning to lose his temper, and it was showing. "My dear friend, associating with Muggles, _wearing_ muggle clothing…" he gave a small, yet sardonic smile, "…ah…_consorting_ with werewolves, even that idiot Goyle doesn't go that far!"

"That," Sirius snapped, all good humour completely gone, "Is my job. It is what our lord requires of me, and god as my witness, if you don't ease up about the fact that I have to use untraditional methods, you and the rest of your posse, can go jump in the moat!"

"My dear boy…"  
  
"I am _not_ your 'dear boy', nor am I your 'dear friend', in fact, I'm not even a true acquaintance, so just leave me alone Malfoy." Sirius spun around and grabbed the door handle of the door that led back down the tower steps, nearly knocking Peter over as he did. Flinging the door open, he had taken only a few steps, when Malfoy's voice carried across the open space.

  
"You are without a doubt, the worst deatheater I've ever heard of." He said softly, his voice ringing with contempt, spite and a slight hint of…was that jealousy?

This, however, did not seem to have the desired effect on Sirius, who turned on the spot, the heels of his boots making a soft grinding noise against the gritty stone of the floor. His face, was suddenly calm, almost eerily so, and his eyes shone with something that bordered on mockery. "Ahh," he said, equally as softly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his chin to look down his nose at Malfoy, stalking so close to the blond deatheater, that the older man had to back up a few steps. "But you _have_ heard of me."

And not waiting for a reply, he walked quickly of down the spiral staircase, his boots making a hollow thumping noise against the old stone.

********

_Wake up; we're going to have company soon._

The inner voice of the wolf prompted Remus to open his eyes and roll onto his back. Wincing slightly as the sun struck his eyes, he sat up, raking his hands through his tangled hair. _How do you know?_ He asked absently, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed and padding to the wardrobe.

_I can sense Him, and he's upset about something._

_Who are we talking about here?_ Remus hauled the heavy mahogany doors open, and began sorting through the rack of robes, looking for one that would fit him.

_Him; the nice one that helps us,_ the wolf's voice sounded almost reproving, if that were possible.

"He doesn't help us." Remus commented out loud pulling the shirt he had worn to bed off over his head and tossing it in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Who doesn't?"   
  
The new voice startled Remus so much, that he jumped and spun around so fast he hit his knee on the wardrobe door. "Ouch!" 

Sirius had the grace to look apologetic and sheepish as he rushed across the room and caught Remus's arm. "Sorry, I thought you knew I was here." He said, trying to help the other man hobble across the room to a chair. "Otherwise I would have given you more of a warning." He blinked as Remus shrugged his hand off, and then made a mental note to keep trying to help. "Do you want me to get your robe?" He indicated the robe that was now in a crumpled heap next to the shirt, having been discarded in favour of the more urgent need to sit down.

"Yes." Remus snapped, rubbing his knee and glaring at the other man. 

"Shame," Sirius drawled as he sauntered across the room to retrieve the garment, his casual mask of teasing friendliness firmly in place once more. "You look extremely good like that." He shot Remus what could only have been described as a suggestive look from under his lowered lashes. 

The werewolf, who had instantly resolved never, ever to be without at least three layers of clothing whenever Sirius was in the vicinity, crossed his arms and scowled. "Just pass me the robe, Black."

"Oh, I don't know," Sirius took a step backwards, still holding the robe; "Maybe I'll just keep it for a while…let you suffer."

"Give. Me. That. Robe."

Another step backwards.

"No, actually, I think I _will_ keep it, unless you ask nicely." Grey eyes sparkled with mischief as Sirius tilted his head to one side, studying Remus. "You seem to be a little upset; is something wrong?"

_Breathe…just breathe…he only wants a reaction_, Remus told himself, struggling to keep both his composure and temper. _So don't give him one. Sit here, and he'll get bored_.

_I'm not so sure,_ the wolf interjected apologetically, _I think he _would_ keep it, just to spite us._

"Nothing's wrong, I'd just _really_ like my robe, please." Remus even managed to sound polite, he was quite proud of that.

"Well I'd just _really_ like to hold onto it for the moment." A third step back, Sirius was clearly taunting him now, and worse yet, he was nearly at the door. "Besides, like I said, you look good like that." His eyes dragged over Remus' form as he started to take the fourth and final step that would bring him out of the room.

Before he could complete the movement, however, Remus was off the bed so quickly that Sirius almost missed him moving at all. However, he had enough warning to dart backwards and out into the corridor, so that the werewolf missed him by a couple of centimetres.

"Damn it Black, you're really trying my patience." The sentence was almost a growl, and Sirius, who was hastily stepping back to avoid another lunge, smirked as heard the frustration in the honeyed voice.

"I know; how does it feel to actually be getting annoyed for once, my ice prince?" He danced backwards again as Remus glared at him, one hand reaching out to swipe at the robe. "Is it making your blood boil? Is it making your teeth grind together and your hands itch to hit me?" He laughed and stepped sideways in the nick of time, to avoid a frantic grab, and then realised he was backed completely up against the opposite wall.

Remus saw this, and seized the opportunity. Diving forwards, he pinned Sirius to the wall, one arm on either side of the other man's head. "Now…give me the robe."

Sirius smiled, and turned his head, studying the skin on the inside of Remus's elbow. "Oh dear…you've been in a fight," he said, studying the long red scratches that still ran down the pale skin. "How did that happen?"

Remus swallowed, momentarily distracted from his quest for the robe. "I…it was nothing, really." He said, his voice more shaky than he had intended. "An accident, some brambles that I lost a fight to." The wolf suddenly gave him a mental jab, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Not that _you'd_ know anything about it, of course?" It was a question, but one that was hidden behind almost casual conversation.

"Of course." Sirius repeated, grey eyes showing nothing, his face a picture of innocence. "But they look rather painful. I'll have a go at healing them later." He smiled, and offered Remus one end of the robe, as though it was a peace pact. "Sorry."  
  
"That's…" Remus began, automatically accepting the apology as he reached out to take the proffered clothing. Before he could finish his sentence though, Sirius had tugged hard on the other end of the cloth, making him stumble forwards. He overbalanced and toppled hard into the deatheater, uttering an undignified squeak as he did so.

Sirius tilted his head to one side, smiling in what could only be described as satisfaction. "Whoops, sorry," he murmured, not looking at all repentant. "Here," He added hastily when Remus began to pull away, "let me apologise properly." Placing one hand behind Remus's head, he pulled him closer until all the shocked werewolf could see was twin pools of silver. "I'm very, very sorry," Sirius murmured contritely, his lips brushing softly against Remus'. "Please forgive me?"

"I…" Remus gasped, his eyes flitting wildly as he tried to find a dignified way out of the situation, "…uh…_no_."

"No you won't forgive me?" Sirius was still so incredibly close, and Remus' panic was rising rapidly. "Oh, but I apologised _nicely_." He smiled, lips again brushing the shocked werewolf's mouth. "Please forgive me," he murmured softly, his lips just hovering on the verge of pressing forward, turning simple contact into a real kiss; teasing, taunting, just out of reach.

_Kiss him_, the wolf suggested; hunger tinting its voice.

_What? No!_ Remus blinked, surprised at the wolf's reaction, _He's just being silly, it's another game to him, and I'm not going to stoop to kissing him to get away!_

_Who said anything about getting away?_ The wolf sounded almost insufferably smug. _I'm not limited by your stupid human inhibitions…_

_Don't you dare!_

_…And it's full moon this evening, so I could have almost complete control of you if I wanted…_

_NO!_

Sirius blinked as Remus drew back slightly, shaking his head as though ridding himself of some stray thought or feeling. The deatheater's eyes widened slightly, as the pose of the man in front of him changed in a split second, making the whole and entirely new situation seem slightly surreal. The slender shoulders, which until now had been drooping slightly under the pressure of the moment, drew back; Remus's head came up and tilted slightly to one side, almost as though in mimicry of Sirius's earlier gestures. The gold eyes, that had been studying the floor, flew up to meet startled silver, flashing molten with a sudden, intense emotion. A sense of wrongness flooded over Sirius that, oddly enough, reassured him at the same time, as though this was only another part of the intriguing man.

"S…rus?" The voice was low, eager; a growl that's edges were slightly smoothed with honey.

Sirius licked his lips. This was a new, strange and entirely uncontrollable side to Remus Lupin that he hadn't seen before. '_Interesting,'_ he thought, raising one eyebrow, '_it's almost like an alter ego_.' He blinked as Remus continued to stare at him, unnerving him slightly, though he would never admit it. "You want the robe back then?" He offered the material again, and was surprised to find it pushed away.

"No."

"Ooookay then." Sirius exhaled, causing several black strands to dance around his face as they were caught in the sudden breeze. "Just don't feel horribly embarrassed when people point at you and make impolite comments…" He blinked. Remus wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to him; instead, he appeared to be eyeing something on the front of Sirius's robe. "What're you looking at?" He was definitely feeling unnerved now, and this only made him more irritable. Being unnerved was not something that Sirius Black was used to.

Remus glanced up at him from under lowered lashes, his expression strangely feral as his eyes smouldered gold fire. "You." Again, the barest hint of a growl in his voice.

Despite himself, Sirius preened slightly. ""Oh, well, that's perfectly all right; we all look oc…" His words were cut off abruptly as he found himself being slammed backwards into the wall, deceptively slender hands holding him in place as Remus gazed up at his shocked expression for a long moment.

"Sirius." He breathed, fingers clenching convulsively, buried in the thick material covering the deatheater's shoulders.

Before Sirius could reply, he felt the hands moving, one being placed on either side of his head and pulling him down into a bruising kiss.

It wasn't delicate, or sweet, it was hard, brutal and _oh god_ he wanted more. It was the kind of kiss that involves strangely gentle nips, tangling tongues, friction bruised lips, quiet whimpers; it promised so much more than just simple kissing. It was mind-melting, toe curling; bliss and agony rolled into one. Remus' hands were entrapping his jaw now, holding it open as he sucked his tongue deep into his mouth. Sirius felt his brain melting with the sheer, carnal pleasure of it. Someone was whimpering, he couldn't tell if it was he or the golden-eyed fey creature who'd somehow ensnared him in this hot, perfect, eternal moment. 

The hands were no longer holding his jaw, the slender fingers were woven tightly into his hair, gripping, pulling him harder into the kiss, ivory against obsidian darkness, contrast; perfect corruption. Sirius's last coherent thought before he gave up completely was that somehow he had lost control of the situation and for some reason he didn't want to gain it back. 

They parted, panting, lips swollen and slick as their foreheads rested together, almost looking cross eyed to see one another. Sirius still reeling from the sheer hedonistic pleasure that that one kiss had caused, Remus looking strangely satisfied with himself, but at the same time, still burning with that strange, indefinable wrongness.

"Nngh…" Sirius managed, before he scowled and cleared his throat. "Lupin, what the hell was that about?" He gave a sudden wicked grin and pushed Remus back a couple of steps, moving away from the wall. "Not that I blame you, of course." He shot the werewolf a charming smile and ran a hand through his hair, pulling loose strands back from his face. "After all…hey…are you ok?"

Remus had turned away from him, his shoulders slightly hunched and his arms wrapped around himself, as though he was in pain. From what Sirius could see of his face, it was turning red with…was that embarrassment? The sable haired wizard shrugged and took a step closer to the werewolf, his movement graceful with what could only be described as seduction. "Hey, why the blush?" Sirius reached out on hand to lightly touch Remus's shoulder, but found the other man flinching away from the movement, as though he was about to be hit. 

"Don't touch me." The words lashed through the air like the crack of a whip, and Sirius' eyes narrowed slightly, first with astonishment, then with anger.

"Why? Suddenly scared of me, Lupin?" His voice held a sneering note that could have rivalled Snape's on a bad day. "_That_ was a quick change of mind, wasn't it?"

Remus didn't even move. "Just leave me alone, Black."

Enraged, Sirius gripped his shoulders, ignoring the flinch, and spun him around. "What the _hell_ has just happened?" He said, feeling, once again, as though he was no longer in control of the situation. "One minute you're ravaging my mouth as though you only have minutes to live, and the next you're terrified of me. Damnit Lupin, I don't like being toyed with." They were practically nose-to-nose, Sirius all but snarling and Remus perfectly still, his face now drained completely white – a mask of composure.

"Let go of me."

Frustrated, Sirius did as he was told, and stepped back, his expression set in a grim mask. "Don't cross me, Remus, because you won't like me when I'm angry." His eyes were like two shards of grey stone as he studied the werewolf with almost deliberate cruelty. "You seem to forget that you are my prisoner and sometimes…" He sneered, leaning dangerously close again, "…I'm not all peaches and cream." All hint of the playful man of the past few days had vanished, and in Remus's shell-shocked mind, he could suddenly see quite, quite clearly why Sirius Black made such a good deatheater.     

Sirius, clearly having given up trying to get him to speak, gripped his shoulders and drove him back through the bedroom door, pausing long enough in the doorway to shoot Remus one, final, warning glare. "Stay here." He said abruptly, "Peter will be along later to escort you to where we've got a safe compound set up for you." Not waiting for reply, he turned on his heel and walked out, shutting the door with a loud thump, muttering a locking charm as he did so.

_What went wrong?_ The wolf wondered silently in the depths of the confused man's head.

_You! You went wrong! If you'd just kept your God-be-damned ideas to yourself we wouldn't be in this mess! Now he thinks I have some sort of mental problem! And on top of that,** I** have to deal with the issues **you** have raised by kissing him!_

_It was a good kiss though,_ the wolf replied smugly, as usual not at all repentant, _he liked it too._

_How do you know that?_ Remus raged silently within the depths of his mind, _Did he tell you? I don't think so!_

_He didn't need too._

Remus groaned and buried his face in his hands. _You're playing with fire here, and I'm the one that'll end up burnt. He's a deatheater! You saw how quickly he changed from nice to nasty! He could kill us both without batting an eyelid and no matter how much he plays the 'nice guy' it's true. He's dangerous, and I can't get that through to you! Stop trying to seduce him!_

_Why?_ The wolf sounded genuinely curious, _He wants us – I know he does! Why not take advantage of that?_

_Because seduction is a dangerous thing. We may start off trying to get under his skin, but in the end, he will turn that to his advantage._

_Perhaps…_ The wolf trailed off, its presence fading to the back of Remus's mind until there was only the faintest hint that it was there at all.

Remus sat for a moment in silence, quietly staring at the locked and closed door, deliberately not thinking of anything in particular. However, it wasn't long before the insistent thought that had been nagging his dreamy state of mind pushed its way to the forefront, and he scowled as his contemplation turned once more towards Sirius. The deatheater was an utter puzzle, his moods ranging from amiable to furious in the blink of an eye; Sirius struck him as the type of person who felt everything instantly and deeply. But was it an act? A small part of his mind nagged. Was it really that Sirius was presenting this intriguing façade to lure him into doing whatever it was that his master wanted? 

Well, Remus thought with a flash of irritation, he wouldn't. There was nothing on earth, he vowed silently, that Sirius Black could ever do that would make him join forces with someone as evil as Voldemort.

Heat, meshing, tongues twisting; that uniquely spicy flavour that tasted partly like cinnamon and entirely like Sirius. Eyes that reflected heartfelt emotions, two shining pools of liquid silver that tugged at the heartstrings. Expert hands, gripping his arms, urging him closer, begging for more, pleading moans, soft whimpers…a face that was lost in the vague ecstasy of pleasure…

"Stop it!" Remus shouted, burying his face in his hands as he tried to block the sudden rush of mental images from his mind, "He's nothing! _Nothing!_ He's evil and twisted…just like the rest of them! I _hate him_, he's always laughing at me…laughing at us. Taunting, teasing, he never stops; I don't know why you're so interested in him! It was just a stupid kiss! Why do you keep bringing it up?"

_Because it is linked to that 'dream' we had._

"What on earth are you on about?"

The dream. It was real – we both know it, but you deny it. Why not ask him about it? Why not question his motives? At the same time we can ask him why we only saw him once at the large building.

"What, Hogwarts?"

_Yes. So get close to him, keep questioning him – he is interesting._ There was a flicker of some unidentifiable emotion from the wolf, but it was gone before Remus could question it.

"WHY are you so interested in him? Surely you just want to rip his throat out!"

Silently, at the back of his mind, the wolf laughed.

********

"Cheer up ducky," Cilia commented as she continued to knead the pale dough. "Life can't be that bad."

The kitchen was bustling with activity as several people rushed to and fro along the steaming aisles that separated the workbenches that had been installed in the back of the bakery. It was noisy and hot, but the atmosphere was one of cheerful yet concentrated busyness. Cilia, the head baker, ruled over this small domain with a large, ruddy fist of iron and an apron that could easily have been used to provide sails for a ship. Her cheerful, yet strict nature endeared her to most people, and Sirius, who often frequented the small village just outside the castle, had been taken under her wing from the moment he had turned up in the bakery to buy several loaves.

The sullen deatheater was perched on a stool in the furthermost reaches of the kitchen, well out of harm's way. His expression was moody as he watched Cilia sling the dough into a bread pan and push the entire thing into the stone oven that resided at one end of the long room. "It's worse." He said, his voice taking on a sulky tone that even he thought sounded childish.

Cilia raised an eyebrow as she grabbed another bag of flour and poured a generous heap into the mixing bowl. "Well, what on earth's the matter then?" She demanded, her Scottish burr ringing around the kitchen as she scowled at him. "Something's put you in a right foul mood unless I'm very much mistaken, and unless you care to tell me about it, there's nought I can do."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a loud shriek from the other end of the kitchen and a large puff of flour that rose into the air, only to settle again on everything within the vicinity. 

"For the love of God, Ella!" Cilia roared down the room, "Be _careful_! If that stuff gets in with the flapjacks, they're going to be ruined!" She bore down on the hapless Ella, her ruddy face contorted with irritation as she hurriedly swept the flour off the work surfaces before it could do any further damage. 

Sirius sneezed as a cloud of white powder drifted past, some of it settling on his head, making him age somewhat and develop grey streaks in his otherwise stark black hair. "Oy," He complained, plucking at a strand and studying it disdainfully, "How am I meant to get this out if you please? When you mix flour with water it goes sticky!" He wrinkled his nose and shot Ella an irritated look, making her blush with embarrassment and hurriedly turn to pull a tray of scones out of the oven.

"Hush, you," Cilia scolded, striding back down the room, picking up a rolling pin as she did so, "You know the risks of sitting in here – so on your head be it." She thumped the unlucky piece of wood down on the countertop and grabbed a bag of sugar. "Now," She said, as though their previous conversation had not been interrupted, "What exactly is the problem then?"

Sirius wrinkled his nose as he idly picked at a frayed edge on the cuff of his t-shirt. He couldn't confide the entire story to Cilia because – despite providing food for the castle – she knew very little about what went on there, and nothing about the wizarding world in general. "Well, it's sort of…complicated," He began, almost reluctantly. "You see, there's this…person that I've been asked to, um, look after…" He trailed off, trying to think of a tactful way to say 'and seduce', but couldn't. "Anyway, this person's very smart and intelligent and they don't really want to be looked after, particularly not by me, because they hate me." He gave a weak smile as Cilia raised an eyebrow, but made no comment, instead choosing to add butter to the mixture forming in her bowl. He took a deep breath and continued. "Well, the thing is, this person's been playing on my mind a lot recently, but I can't really talk to them, because, like I said, they hate me."

Cilia paused in her furious mixing for a moment to stare at him. "Am I hearing you right, ducky? _You_ are suffering a confidence crisis? You who just waltzed in here one day and perched on that there stool, comfy as you please? You who half the village knows already?" She gave a low whistle and slopped a few spices into the bowl for good measure. "This person must be pretty interesting to have thrown _you_ off balance." She smiled affectionately at Sirius's indignant glare and patted him on the shoulder with one large, floured hand. "Don't worry about it ducky, just be your usual, charming self and you'll be fine."

"Yeah," Sirius echoed, perking up slightly, a small smile gracing his lips. "Maybe I should just be my charming self." His grin could have been called infectious, if it wasn't for a certain amount of wickedness in it.

********

"So let me get this straight," James asked, for what felt like the hundredth time, "You were asleep in your bedroom, whose window overlooks that small copse of trees over there, when you were woken by a loud commotion…correct?"

The tiny, wizened witch nodded.

"…Following this loud noise, you jumped out of bed and peered out of the said window in time to see a motorcycle speeding off at a great speed down the country lane."

"It had two men on it," The witch supplied helpfully, "The only thing I could make out though, was that one was wearing a green robe, and the other had long hair." She smiled and offered the irritated auror the same tray of biscuits that she'd offered three times previously. "Biscuit?"

"No!" James leapt to his feet in frustration, scowling down at her shocked expression. "I don't have _time_ for biscuits, and if you offer them to me once more, I'm going to have you held in custody for hindering a public investigation!" He took a deep breath, struggling to regain some control, regretting the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but feeling slightly better for venting some frustration. "Excuse me." He muttered, turning and storming out of the small cottage, taking care to slam the door behind him.

Once outside, he leant against the whitewashed wall and stared up at the sky, letting the wind shift his unruly hair and soothe his frazzled nerves somewhat. _'I haven't found him,'_ he thought miserably, '_I've been working every hour of the day and I'm no closer to finding Remus than I am to inventing a broomstick that can fly to Pluto. Where has he **gone**? It's like he's simply vanished, and that blasted stranger with him!_' He exhaled sharply and straightened his robes. '_I know I'm not meant to jump to conclusions, but I bet this mystery man was a deatheater – curse him! Why did they have to pick on Remus? WHY does Voldemort want him so much?'_ He scowled and kicked a stray pebble, scuffing it along the path as he moved away from the cottage. _'It must be something to do with his…second nature – but what? Dumbledore won't say anything, and whenever I ask McGonagall, she goes all tight-lipped and refuses to answer!'_

James grimaced as he entered the Three Broomsticks and, ignoring Rosmerta's weak smile, ascended the stairs to his room.

Throwing himself down on the bed, he thought longingly of Lily, far off in Godric's Hollow, before his mind turned once again to the miserable task at hand. Staring up at the ceiling, he felt his hands clench into fists.

'I will find you, Remus…I will.'

To Be Continued… 

**CB:** Many thanks to all who reviewed – sadly I really don't gave time to say thank you to each everyone one of you, because I'm in a tearing hurry. I will next chapter!


	6. Chapter Six

**CB:** *Faints* So…much…work! Still, I promised myself I'd take time out this week to at least _start_ this chapter, so hey, here we go!

_'So full of artless jealousy is guilt, it spills itself in fearing to be spilt.' _– Hamlet

Dusk was closing in rapidly as Remus walked quickly through the forest, trying to ignore the unsettling butterflies that were dancing in the pit of his stomach.

The short, plump, rat faced man who had come to get him from his room shot him a nervous smile, perspiration gleaming on his forehead. "Not far now." He said weakly, taking care to keep well ahead of the tense werewolf. "W-we're nearly at the safe compound." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, nervously patting his forehead with it. "Um…will you need anything?"

Remus ignored him in favour of memorising his way through the forest.

He'd been brought out to the forest – although it was hardly more than a wood – about half an hour earlier, and although it was no more than three miles from the little village and castle, the deatheater seemed convinced that he would not be able to harm anyone. He, on the other hand, was quite prepared to believe that the wolf was capable of running back to the village within half an hour of moonrise and killing the entire population.

He may have been nervous – but he was not stupid.

"Pray tell," He said coldly, "How _exactly_ are you going to keep me from running off the moment the moon has risen?"

The rat faced man paused in a small clearing. "We have wards," he said, casting a worried eye around the place. "And agents in the wood to stop you escaping."

"And if I rip their throats out?" Remus smiled, baring all of his teeth in a wicked grin. The wolf was starting to show through in his actions now, and they both knew it. "Ahh, at least I'll actually be able to hunt tonight." He licked his lips then glanced around. "Is _this_ your 'safe' compound?" The sarcasm in his voice dropped into place with an audible clang, "I must say, I'm i_ncredibly_ impressed." He wasn't acting at all like himself, and he knew that, too, but the wolf's instincts and behaviour were bubbling so close to the surface it was making him feel dizzy. '_Moonrise must be soon…_'

The rat faced man made a small squeak and shuffled backwards slightly "W-well, if you'll just stay here," he managed, taking a cautious step towards the trees, that lined the clearing. "Um, someone will be along shortly."

"Yes, run away whilst you can." Remus's mocking voice followed him as he hurried away into the dense undergrowth.

Dropping to his knees, the werewolf surveyed his surroundings.

The clearing, whilst small, was lined with thick grass that was still slightly damp from the rain earlier that day. A small tree stump sat in the centre of the open space, and a couple of wild toadstools were growing from it. The trees ringing the clearing were dark and unforgiving against the waning light in the sky and their leaves were just beginning to fall – giving the branches the first impressions of skeletal arms. 

Remus shivered, and pulled his robes tighter around his body, willing the dull ache in his bones to fade for a moment – giving him brief respite from the pain that he _knew_ was about to plague him.

In the bushes behind him, something rustled.

Starting, he leapt to his feet with some bordering on supernatural speed, and whirled around. Glaring at the bushes, he paused, heart beating slightly faster than usual. Inside his head, the wolf 's voice commented. _Someone we know?_

_I'm…not sure…_ Remus gave an experimental sniff, and caught the faint scent of cinnamon and crisp leaves. _Him?_ He blinked, and felt a slight shiver race through his body, signalling the rising moon. _What's he doing here?_

The wolf gave a mental shrug. _How am I meant to know?_

_Well, I would say try not to maul him to death…but since this is Him…_ Remus smirked as he settled down, his back against the tree stump. _Go right ahead_.

_Oh don't be stupid,_ the wolf muttered; already prowling the confines of Remus's mental control,_ I wouldn't hurt Him_.

_Got a bit of a soft spot for him, have you?_ Remus's voice was taunting as he sourly eyed the bushes that Sirius was currently crouched behind. _Don't want to hurt the traitor who goes against everything we've ever worked for, just because you have a crush on him?_

The wolf snarled in Remus's mind, nearly breaking free of the mental restraints as it became agitated. _Fool! It's not just me that likes him so much. When are you going to open your eyes and see what's in front of you?_

_I…_ Remus began, but the moon rose in the sky and the change began to wrack his body before he could complete the sentence.

From the bushes, a black dog leapt out.

********

James was sprawled on his back, fast asleep with a small frown marring his forehead when Lily crept into the room he'd hired at the Three Broomsticks. His hair, clothes and bed sheets were completely crumpled and messy as he made a small noise of discontent and rolled over as Lily gently touched his arm. 

"James…James darling…wake up…"

Nothing.

"JAMES POTTER!"

James yelped and sat bolt upright, glasses askew and limbs akimbo as he stared wildly around the room. "Wstfzgl?!" He managed, before his gaze landed on Lily, who was perched on the edge of the bed, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. "Oh…" He yawned, raking a hand through his hair and winced as it got caught in among the numerous knots. "Hello sweetheart…what're you doing here?"  
  


"I thought you could use the company," Lily replied, still smiling as she leant over to press an affectionate kiss to his forehead. "Believe it or not, it's been a good two weeks since I last saw you."

"R-really?" James yawned again and leant forwards to embrace her. "No wonder I missed you so much…been so very busy…" He blinked owlishly behind his glasses as Lily reached up to adjust them, then caught her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you recently," He whispered softly, "But you know how much of a friend Remus has been to us…I can't just leave him out there somewhere, lost.

"I know." Lily's expression softened as she smoothed his hair. "And he knows you won't give up on him." Leaning forwards, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "And that's one of the many reasons I love you, Potter."

James smiled – the first time he had in nearly a week. "I know, and I love you too."

********

The sunlight streamed through the window, playing across sheets, spread-eagled limbs and the dark hair, which was pooled on the pillow.

As the sunlight hit the back of his eyes, Sirius stirred, a small frown creasing his forehead. The death eater blinked, grey eyes focusing slowly as he emerged gradually out of sleep.

By the rays of sun streaming through the window and highlighting the rich brown wood of the furniture, he could tell that it was late morning, or possibly early afternoon. Sighing, Sirius sat up slowly, running a hand through his tangled dark hair. 

He'd brought Remus back here early this morning, dumped him unceremoniously in one of the rooms adjacent to this one, and collapsed into his own bed, utterly exhausted. Now, with the day half gone and the reassuring light of the sun playing in the room, Sirius allowed himself to contemplate what he'd seen the night before.

The wolf had been wary of the large black dog at first – unfamiliar with other animals despite its very nature. However, after an hour or two of cautious prowling, it had accepted the other's presence and, eventually, even approached it. Despite this degree of trust, it had still been with a great deal of trepidation that Sirius had allowed the wolf to come so near, but his canine instinct – overriding his more rational human side – had finally induced the wolf into a form of play until the moon had begun to set.

Fur…claws…teeth… 

_Blood…._

Sirius shuddered and wiped this thought from his mind, not wishing to recall the events of the actual transformation.

Ripped skin…bone….more blood… 

Retching slightly, the death eater shoved back the covers and staggered out of bed. Firmly banishing the thoughts to the back of his memory, he squinted in the bright light before padding over to the wardrobe and digging around for a robe.

Throwing it over his head, he grabbed a brush and, ignoring the need for shoes, fled down to one of the many walled gardens.

The early spring sunshine had dried the grass in the gardens, although the ground itself was still a little damp. The smooth grey flagstone garden path wound around several flowerbeds before it ended near a bower that was comprised of a trellised arch around which the tea roses, encouraged by the early warmth, had begun to bloom and a low wooden bench that sat under the arch. In the nearby trees, a lone bird sat, occasionally chirruping as it swept the vicinity for worms.

Sirius eyed the bird with distaste before retreating to the bench. Settling himself down he burrowed his feet in the grass, sighing in contentment at the coolness under his toes, before he pulled the brush out of his pocket and began the daily fight with his hair.

The motion of the brush was soothing, as was the sun's gentle warmth, and despite himself, Sirius found he was relaxing. Even the bird, which was still persistently tweeting, had begun to become part of the general background noise rather than an irritation. Sighing, the death eater wriggled his toes, burrowing them still further into the grass, and wondered how long the unseasonable warmth would last. In front of him, the winter pansies nodded their heads from their flowerbeds and the trees swayed in the breeze.

Only the sounds of nature intruded and Sirius, pocketing his brush, stood up and smoothed down his robe. Wandering back to the main garden path he continued to follow it until he came to the second walled garden. His feet slapping against the flagstones, he pushed open the wooden door and peered around it. 

This garden was much the same as the first, except it was slightly barer and more ornate. A maze of paths among the flowerbeds led in twisting spirals to the stone fountain placed in the middle. The flowers here consisted mostly of rose bushes and one, beautiful magnolia tree in the far corner, its blossoms already out. Sirius could smell their heavy perfume from where he was standing, and he smiled. 

Moving idly to the first flowerbed, he noticed that several of the rose bushes hadn't been cultivated in the past three years at least. Frowning, the wizard knelt down, pushing his hair back from his face to get a better view of the flowers. 

The recent rain had laid many of the roots bare, he realised, and if there were to be another frost, the bushes would be as good as dead.

Shrugging, Sirius carefully scooped up a handful of soil and began patting it back around the plant, taking care to cover the roots and a good way up the main trunk of the bush. He was still doing this when Remus found him some three quarters of an hour later.

By this time, Sirius had finished the first three flowerbeds (the rose bushes now carefully trimmed and their roots protected) and was moving on to the fourth.

For a long moment, Remus stood framed in the doorway, not quite sure what he was seeing. The other wizard's hands were gently smoothing the soil around an exceptionally large bush and he was softly murmuring to the plant. A streak of dirt adorned one cheek and the pale robe, which had been clean so recently, now had large smudges on it. A knife, which had been retrieved from the kitchens, was lying on the grass next to the deatheater and as Remus watched, Sirius carefully picked it up and sliced off a dead twig.

Clearing his throat, the werewolf stepped fully into the garden.

Expression startled, Sirius looked up, grey eyes wide in his face. Perhaps it was the unexpectedly vulnerable expression on his face, or the way he seemed almost child-like in his dirty robes, but Remus found himself warming slightly, despite the cold resolution he'd made when he'd woken that morning.

"Yes, do you need something?" Sirius's voice was pleasant but neutral as he turned his attention back to the rose bush, pushing some more soil nearer to it.

Remus shrugged, despite the fact that the deatheater couldn't see him. "I was told you were out here." He replied, his own voice matching the other's tone.

"Hmm." Sirius didn't look at him as he carefully broke off another dead twig. Sitting back on his heels, he studied the rose bush for a moment, before allowing himself a small smile. "Good enough."

"Wha–? Oh." Remus realised he wasn't really being addressed, but came forwards, cautiously, anyway.

"I didn't know you gardened."

"I don't," And now Sirius _did_ turn to look at him, "But they'd just die if I didn't do something about it."

Remus blinked, momentarily nonplussed, and this gave his companion time to study him.

Incredibly pale, the werewolf's eyes were so badly shadowed that it looked like he had two bruises. Dark scratches ran down one side of his neck before disappearing under the neck of his robe, and he was swaying slightly where he stood. He also didn't appear to realise that a dark red patch was blossoming on the side of his clothing.

Frowning, Sirius stood up. "You're bleeding." He said flatly.

Remus followed the grey gaze down to where it was fixed on his side and frowned. "It's nothing much. I heal incredibly quickly anyway."

"Don't be stupid!" Sirius snapped, "That's need medical attention." With two swift strides he had crossed the grass and was standing in front of the werewolf. Pausing, his hand hovered over the shirt of Remus's robe. "Do you mind?"

Remus shrugged, expression carefully neutral. "I'm wearing clothing underneath."

Nodding, Sirius pulled the robe off and bit back a small cry of horror at the sight of the wound.

It ran from just below Remus's armpit to his hip. Deep and oozing blood, it looked incredibly vicious, and the death eater had to marvel that no internal organs had been damaged.  Bending, he hastily ripped three long strips from his own robe. "Hold still," He commanded.

Complying, Remus winced as the first of the makeshift bandages was wrapped around his body. He was, however, surprised by how gentle Sirius was being, despite the other man's evident irritation.

When the death eater had finished, he stepped back, frowning. "We'll probably have to find you some proper bandages." He announced, handing Remus his robe, "But it'll do for now." Their fingers brushed as the werewolf accepted, and grey eyes flew up to meet faintly surprised amber ones.

"…Thank you."

Sirius shrugged. "You shouldn't be out here like that anyway. If that wound had been sustained by a normal person, they'd be long dead."

A wry smile quirked Remus' lips. "I'm hardly normal."

"No," Sirius agreed, his expression utterly serious, "You're not." Turning, he indicated the door. "We'd better get you back inside." 

"One moment." Remus caught his wrist, pulling him back. "I wanted to speak to you."

"We can talk inside." 

"No. Here."

Sirius pursed his lips. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You."

Eyebrows rose in surprise and Sirius stared at him. "What on earth for?"

"I've seen you before somewhere. Hogwarts. Why didn't I see you again?"

"That's none of your bloody business!" The death eater snapped, tugging his wrist from Remus's grasp.

"I think it is." The werewolf crossed his arms, stubbornly refusing to leave the point. "I think I deserve some answers, particularly after last night."

"What about last night?" Sirius stared at him, face suddenly closed off and unreadable.

"There was a dog, a big, black dog. Like the one I rescued the night before I met you. In fact, from what I can remember, I'd swear it was the same one." Remus regarded Sirius stonily. "How did it get here?"

Sirius's jaw twitched slightly as he stared at Remus. "So you came out here for answers."

"Precisely."

Marching back along the path, Sirius went straight back to the first garden and the bench. "Then sit down before you fall down. If you want answers so desperately, you're going to bloody pay attention. I'm not going to have you collapsing in the middle of all this."

Sinking gratefully onto the seat, Remus looked up expectantly, not bothering to hide his expression. "Well?"

"Well what?" the death eater folded his arms across his chest, not deigning to sit. His posture was defensive and every line of his body spoke of tension.

"Are you going to explain to me why I saw you at Hogwarts?"

Sirius looked away, swallowing convulsively. "Straight for the jugular, Lupin," he allowed, his voice tight. "All right. Why I was at Hogwarts." Taking a deep breath, he began to speak, his voice flat, his eyes refusing to meet Remus's gaze. "I only went to Hogwarts for one year. Before that, my parents had had me privately tutored – that was until I was fifteen. They were worried about me, I was their only son and my mother wasn't able to have any more children.

"Finally, Dumbledore came to see my parents. Believe it or not, I'd actually had the gall to write to him, asking for help. I felt…trapped, there's no other word for it. As much as my parents loved me, they were smothering me. Every move I ever made was carefully dictated by them, how I dressed, what I ate, how I acted – who I _was_, really. We were a prestigious family, well known in social circles and so I suppose they were trying to groom me to be what they wanted. I know, essentially, it was for my own good and that I was probably reacting with a normal teenage attitude – but still…

"Anyway, Dumbledore convinced my parent's Hogwarts was the best option. He argued that I needed to know how to deal with people of my own age, so, reluctantly, they agreed." Sirius drew a deep breath, his body shuddering slightly even as he continued to look out across the garden, refusing to even turn his head towards Remus. "It was amazing; for the first time in my life, I was actually free. I had friends my own age who liked the same things I did and I was having the most amazing time of my life."

"Why did that change, then?" Remus asked, voice soft.

Sirius laughed bitterly. "I met someone. Someone my parents, when they found out, did _not_ approve of. It was about halfway through my first and only year there. I was…coming back from the library and…" He trailed off and shrugged. "Well, it's not important now. What is important is that one of my friends realised what I was feeling about this person, what I was thinking. They informed their parents. Inevitably, their parents informed my parents."

"Why did your parents care so much?" Remus was beginning to regret asking. The pain was evident in Sirius's face, and he was beginning to feel a small spark of guilt.

"My parents didn't approve because…because this person wasn't of the same social class and they were also of the same gender. Do not mistake me; my parents were _not_ homophobic, and everything they did for me, they did because essentially, they believed that what they were doing was right. The idea just didn't sit well with them and they made up a reason to transfer me to Durmstrang. They never _told_ me that was why they moved me, but it was evident. After they found out, they never treated me in quite the same way. There were looks that they didn't think I saw, moments when things were so awkward it was difficult to even communicate." Another bitter smile, "I wasn't their precious little boy any more."

"And the person you liked?"

Haunted grey eyes turned towards Remus for the first time since the conversation had begun, and the werewolf was shocked to see how much emotion was swimming in them, compared to the stony gaze of earlier. "They never knew. I didn't tell them, that's the point, I didn't really tell _anyone_." Sirius shot the werewolf a small smile full of bitterness and pain. "I didn't even know his name, anyway."

"So you were moved to Durmstrang because of him?"

"Yes."

"Which is why I only saw you once."

"Yes."

Remus expected Sirius to ask exactly _when_ he had seen him, but he didn't. Instead, the death eater sank gracelessly to the ground, not even bothering to use the bench. "Anything else you would like to know?" His voice was hollow, but with a touch of acid that still marked it as Sirius'.

Remus drew a deep breath. "Yes, that dog…"

"…Was me. I'm an animagus." A sour smile twisted full lips. "It's what makes me so useful."

Remus nodded, not quite surprised as he thought he should be. 

"Is that all?"

"No…" The werewolf took a deep breath and prepared to take the plunge. He'd resolved to ask Sirius this question this morning, as soon as he'd woken up, really. "If you're parents were doing everything for you…why did you kill them?"

Sirius' hands fisted convulsively and his gaze dropped once more to study the flagstone path. "That…I didn't do."

"But you're father, when he was dying…he told me you had done it." Remus stared hard at the other man, his expression grim.

"No." Sirius's tone was dull. "I didn't do it. I didn't even know until Peter informed me of what was happening. I went there…I saw it all. My father saw _me_…but I didn't try to stop it. Not even when he screamed for help." He shuddered, and his fists clenched still further.

"Then you are as bad as a murderer." Remus's gaze was angry. "You saw and you could have helped, but you didn't."

Sirius laughed harshly, grey eyes flaming as he stared up at Remus. "You tell me what I was supposed to do, Lupin. There were thousands of them, there was one of me."

"Then you should have at least died trying to do what was right."

"_That_ is simply idealism. Why throw my life away on people who used to hurt me every day?"

"Bu you said yourself…"

"Oh, I don't mean deliberately. It was just with every sideways glance, with every slightly odd reply, they hurt me. They didn't mean to – they tried to love me after I came back from Hogwarts, but I couldn't be what they wanted me to be, and we all knew it."

"Still, that is _not_ enough of a reason to not defend them!" Remus stood up angrily and crashed onto his knees in front of Sirius. Gripping his chin, he forced the other man to look at him. "You _let your parents die_. No matter what they did, they were still your parents. You should have rescued them."

"Do you know they disowned me in the end?" Sirius said it almost conversationally, but his expression was hard. "After I became a deatheater, they wanted nothing more to do with me."

"Maybe because they were good people?" Remus replied acidly.

"Don't be ridiculous. Nobody is 'good', just as nobody is 'bad'. You've heard the saying: 'one man's freedom fighter is another man's terrorist'. It depends entirely on you viewpoint."

"So what's yours?"

Sirius shrugged. "I believe in the cause of Voldemort, and I believe _your_ side is in the wrong."

"Good grief." Remus looked at him in disgust. "You really have been brainwashed, haven't you? Voldemort _hurts innocent people_."

"And your side doesn't?" Sirius's expression was twisted, halfway between anger and bitter humour. "Voldemort may hurt innocent people, but at least he doesn't force them to work for him and risk their lives for a cause they don't believe in."

"Our side doesn't do that!"

"Really? Take Peter as an example, then. He was living a normal, reasonably happy life. The next thing he knows, the ministry turn up on his door and order him to join their cause against Voldemort. They _threaten_ him until he agrees and then they send him straight in on a surprise attack mission without _any_ training. They _know_ he will get caught, in fact, they're counting on it, because they have fed him the wrong information. So, when he gets tortured, he'll lead Voldemort's army straight into a trap. You tell me how sending out a man deliberately to die is good."

"I…" Remus stared at him.

"Yes, innocent people _do_ get harmed if they come into contact with our side, but this is war; it's inevitable." 

"A callous view." The werewolf's lips thinned into a disapproving line.

Sirius stared at him. "I'm a callous person, Remus. In my mind there is no good or evil. There is simply one's actions, and _that_ is what is the most important. You're actions determine your fate. If my parents hadn't disowned me and turned me in to the ministry so I could spend three months being tortured, maybe they'd still be alive today. Maybe _I'd _be dead, having tried to save them." He shrugged and looked away, face drawn and looking strangely tired.

There was a long moment of quiet in the garden, as Remus's mind processed all the information he'd been given in the past half an hour. Somewhere behind the two men, a bird trilled in one of the trees – the only sound in the otherwise silent garden.

"One last question," Remus said at length.

The deatheater gave a hollow laugh. "Gods above, what do you want? My blood?"

"Hardly. I'm a werewolf, not a vampire."

This drew a grudging smile, and the atmosphere lightened slightly. Sirius inclined his head. "Go on then, ask."

"…What does Voldemort want me for?"

"Ah." Sirius looked slightly relieved, as though he'd been expecting a question that was much worse. "To be honest, I don't know. I don't question him, or his motives. If he had wanted you to know, he would have told you by now, and the same would probably apply to me as well."

"I wouldn't have expected you of all people to be so…"

"Complacent?" Sirius shot him a genuine smile this time. "I'm not; I did a fair bit of digging around when I first caught you, and couldn't come up with anything – so he's either not telling, or he's not entirely sure himself, yet."

Remus nodded and there was another long pause whilst he gathered his thoughts. At last he looked at Sirius, who was staring off into the distance. "…Thank you." He said softly.

The death eater blinked, gaze coming sharply back into focus. "Hm?"

"Thank you." The werewolf repeated.

"That's all right, I suppose." Sirius smiled weakly, and Remus, caught off guard, noticed what a nice smile he had when he was being sincere. Behind the wizard, the tea roses had begun to blossom – their blood red petals just on the brink of uncurling. All in all, deatheater and garden painted a strangely beautiful picture together. Not one who was used to admiring art, Remus still couldn't help but compare the rich red with the dark black of Sirius's hair; the deep green of leaves and stems with the pale blue of the robe. Shaking his head, he pressed his hand palm down onto his own robed knee, trying to banish the surreal sensation of such a perfect picture that was so easily contrasted to the emotional pain of before.

"Remus…you ok?" It was the first time Sirius had called him by his first name since their conversation had begun, and it was enough to startle the werewolf back to the present. 

"I…" He blinked, and shook his head again. "Sorry," He smiled slightly, and was surprised to see Sirius's own expression lighting up in response. "I think I was just…er…overwhelmed by the amount of information I'm going to have to come to term with."

Sirius gave a small chuckle. "At least you haven't spent the last half hour pouring your life's story out to a near stranger," He said ruefully. "I think I can safely say this has been an emotionally draining experience."

Remus inclined his head, smiling. "This is true." Looking up, he found himself caught in the strong silver gaze of the deatheater. His heart, which had been beating rapidly with adrenalin from the start of the conversation, pounded to a stop, and his own breathing sounded loud in his ears.

Neither could say who reached for the other first, but their lips met softly, gently; the meaning behind it so different to the brutal kiss they had shared the day before. There was nothing sexual about it, only a sweet, almost childlike innocence, the tender cautiousness of two individuals thrown together and had who had reacted without question.

Pulling back abruptly, Sirius leapt to his feet. Clearing his throat, he stared down but refused to meet Remus's eyes. "…Excuse me." He muttered at length, before hurrying off down the garden path. His actions were so swift that it took Remus a moment to even register he had gone.

Around the corner, Sirius paused for a moment, leaning against the old stone wall and shutting his eyes. "Damnit," He hissed from between gritted teeth, "this is _not_ meant to be happening…"

To Be Continued… 

**CB:** *Drowning in angst* Hmm, that chapter didn't turn out _quite_ as I wanted it to…it sort of escaped. . Oh well, I'll thank everyone next time around! (And Happy Easter!)


	7. Chapter Seven

**CB:** Just a quick note – there be a _little_ bit of smutty stuff in this chapter. ^_~ I know you've all been dying for it…(Thanks to **Sona** for hassling/helping/threatening me with the smut. Thanks Sona, it couldn't have been written without you!)

'"We all have flaws," he said, "and mine is being wicked."'

- **James Thurber, 'The Thirteen Clocks'**

Peter yawned as he climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor. Snape trailed after him, bringing a pervading sense of irritation and contempt.

"I know you're not the brightest of people, Pettigrew, but I find it hard to believe that even _you_ could have misplaced someone as loud and obnoxious as Black." The sallow skinned man smiled nastily as Peter, flushing, moved forwards at a slightly quicker pace. "He's not usually difficult to find – you just follow the screams."

"Screams of what, exactly?" Peter snapped, pushed to his limits and actually daring to brave Snape's verbal abuse, even as he reached the top of the stairs and began to walk at break neck speed down the corridor.

"I don't know," Snape raised an eyebrow, his longer legs easily keeping stride with the plump man. "I suppose it depends what mood he's in. Screams of pain are a usual, I've heard." Another nasty smile crossed his face. "Occasionally there are screams of betrayal."

Peter quickly turned a corner, praying Snape would leave him alone before he found Sirius. "Look, push off, will you?"

"Or…" Snape paused, malicious intent in his eyes as he completely ignored Peter, "More often than not, according to rumour, it's because he's busy screwing someone." He sneered and watched the effect of his words with some delight as Peter came to an abrupt stop.

"I don't know where you heard that, Snape, but it's not true."

"Isn't it?" The taller man was enjoying the effect he was having over Peter. "I would beg to differ. What about his little _werewolf_ friend, hmm? The man's despicable, he'll sleep with anything that walks, even something like _that_." He curled his lip, plainly disgusted, "And he's not known the rabid mongrel that long."

Peter bit his lip, torn between wanting to defend Sirius and wanting to keep a low profile. His hands curling into fists, he turned away. "Just…just fuck off, Snape."

"Brave words." Snape raised an eyebrow, maliciously enjoying the pain he was causing. "I'm surprised you have the backbone to say that to my face without _Black_ to look after you. I mean," He continued, expression turning into one of mock concern, "If you had said that to anyone other than myself, they might not be so…forgiving. Indeed, they might even cause you a great deal of pain and trouble."

Peter, desperately ignoring him, came to a halt in front of the library door. Pushing it open, he winced as the hinges squeaked slightly.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed down warm and comforting through the low windows and in among the high bookshelves. Dust particles flashed like gold as they fell, dancing through the air, and the utter stillness of the room had a pervading air of peace about it. The books, some extremely old, some fairly new, were all arranged neatly, except for the few scattered about and stuffed on the top of others – no doubt where Sirius had just placed them back carelessly, being the only one to ever really venture into the room.

Cautiously, Peter wandered down one of the aisles, hoping against hope that this, finally, was where he would find Sirius. As he turned right (Snape still trailing behind him like a menacing black rain cloud) his ears caught the faint sound of a pen scratching against paper. Moving quietly towards the noise, he peered around the end of a bookshelf and caught sight of Sirius curled up in one of the window seats, busily writing in a worn leather book.

The sunlight caught in the deatheater's hair, surrounding him with a warm light. It played off his face, highlighting cheekbones and showing the dramatic arch of neck and the dip of collarbones, just visible through the open neck of his robe. The worn leather book was clasped loosely in one hand, and resting against his drawn up knees, and the quill in the other was busily flying across the parchment pages.

Peter coughed, and Sirius looked up in surprise, clearly startled.

"Hello, Pete, what brings you in here."

The plump man shrugged. "Lucius asked me to tell you our Lord wishes to see you this evening. He wants to know of your progress with…ah…the werewolf."

"I see." Sirius's face looked slightly grim, but he smiled nonetheless. "Anything else?"

"No," Peter shot a glance over his right shoulder, and Sirius, following his gaze, spotted Snape.

"Good god, what's that greasy git doing here?"

Snape smiled nastily. "Making sure Pettigrew doesn't get lost." He raised an eyebrow, "I'll tell our Lord you're coming then, shall I?"

"If you'd be so kind." Sirius's voice was icy.

Snape nodded and vanished back towards the library door.

"I hate that man," Sirius commented, as soon as he was sure Snape had left. "He makes me feel paranoid." He pulled a sour face and glanced at Peter. "Why _did_ you let him accompany you, anyway? Couldn't you have lost him down a side passage, or better yet killed him and made it look like an accident?"

Peter shrugged, his expression mournful. "I tried everything I could." He said miserably

"Ah well." Sirius's gaze turned back towards the book and Peter, having known him long enough to be able to read his moods as easily as if he was being told, sensed that he wanted to be left alone.

"I'll, er, go and check that the werewolf's still in his room." He said hurriedly.

Sirius nodded absently, but commented: "He's probably still in the garden – that's where I can sense him, anyway."

"Sense him?"

"Mm, our Lord linked him to me so he cannot escape."

Peter shifted slightly. "Oh," He said, wracking his brains for another excuse, "Well…I'll, er, go and see if Goyle needs any help with, um, some of the paperwork or something."

"You do that," Sirius said vaguely, already reaching for his quill again.

Shooting a worried look at his friend, Peter left quietly, taking care to shut the door behind him.

Sirius heard him leave, but his mind was focused on his task. Absent-mindedly running the edge of the quill over his lips, he frowned for a moment in concentration before he began to write once more.

'_…Nothing seems to have really changed despite this afternoon's little confession in the garden. I suspect Remus is still going to view me with the same distrust as ever. It makes me wonder, though, why did he even care about where he had seen me? Probably just idle curiosity._

_It's nagging at me though. I can't stop **wondering **about it. He's…damn it, he's such an enigma, I can't read him, I can't tell what he's thinking and that makes me insecure, ME of all people! I've never suffered from a confidence crisis before, why now? I don't know, maybe it's just him; maybe it's a werewolf thing._

Frowning, Sirius put down his quill and closed the diary with a snap. Standing up, he resolved to at least get some rest before he had to meet his Lord.

********

"Ah, Sirius." Voldemort smiled, his expression revealing nothing as he stared up at the deatheater.

"You sent for me, lord." Sirius stood utterly still, his face an emotionless mask.

"Yes." Voldemort's ruby gaze swept over towards where Lucius was standing in one corner. "I wished to talk to you…privately."

Taking the hint, the blond man bowed. "Lord, would you excuse me?"

"Thank you, Lucius."

Two pairs of eyes followed the wizard from the room, then Sirius's snapped back to gaze at his master's face.

"Lupin," Voldemort said abruptly, getting straight to the point, "How are matters progressing?"

"Lord, it hasn't been very long, if you give me more…"

"I did not ask for excuses, Sirius," And the ruby eyes were staring at him again, seeking out his mind, his very _soul_ with their burning, knowing gaze. "How far has he come towards us?"

The deatheater swallowed. "Not very far, lord."

Voldemort smiled again, his hand lazily stroking the snake, which was still wrapped around his chair. "Well, I would have expected better of you, Sirius. You, my best and brightest, you are failing me in this simple task." He leant forwards suddenly, his face intent. "I could always hand this project over to someone like Lucius, or, say, Peter." An eyebrow rose, and he stood up, robes making no sound.

Sirius swallowed. "Forgive me, Lord, but maybe if I knew what you intended to do with Lupin…"

"Ah…" Voldemort stopped a few feet from Sirius, the smile returning, even as his eyes glittered from under the dark fringe of his hair. **(1) **"But if I told you, you might just let it…slip." His smile turned colder, "And I would regret having to punish you for that."

Sirius swallowed. "Very well my lord, if you think it is for the best."

"I do." Voldemort cut him off with an abrupt turn as he stalked back to his chair. "Suffice to say, I expect to see some improvement soon. He is to be brought over to our side. _Do I make myself clear_?"

Sirius bowed, his expression grim. "Yes, my lord."

********

Unable to face Remus just yet, Sirius left the main hall and trotted purposefully up to the top of the castle and onto its battlements.

Despite the warmth of earlier, it _was_ still only spring, and the night air was cold and sharp. The stars glinted frostily down from their nest of black velvet, and he shivered slightly, drawing his robe more tightly around his own body. Out in the distance, a fox barked sharply and an owl screeched in reply, its voice echoing across the empty silence of the sleeping world.

Leaning on the parapet, Sirius gazed up at the slither of moon that was just visible amongst the brilliant pinpricks of starlight. It was odd, the moon, he reflected, grey eyes riveted to it; it had always been there, but he'd never really paid that much attention to it before. Shaking his head, he took a couple of steps backwards – eyes still riveted on the sky, and sank down with his back to the stone wall. Hugging his knees to his chest and wrapping his cloak around his body, he continued to stare at both stars and moon until his vision began to blur…

…Only to be woken some two hours later by a firm hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Sirius?"

Sirius blinked dazedly. The new voice was husky, thick with sleep and it was a moment before his fogged mind caught up with his vision and he was able to put a name to a face. "Remus?" He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "What're you…" A yawn "…Doing up here?"

The werewolf's face was pale in the moonlight, skin appearing like living marble, but his eyes were warm pools of amber. "I woke about half an hour ago, and you hadn't come back to the room." He shrugged, gaze skittering away as Sirius stared at him intently. "I was a little…concerned, so I came looking for you."

Sirius nodded, quickly bowing his head to hide the small, pleased smile that crept across his face. "…Thank you."

It was an awkward moment, both unable to think of anything to say, both wanting to say _something_, particularly in light of the day's events. But the silence stretched between them, growing larger by the second, until Remus coughed, self-consciously. 

"Maybe, we should go in," He suggested, "it's rather…er…cold."

As if on cue, Sirius shivered, then scowled as he was shot a softly amused smile. Stretching out a hand, he allowed Remus to help him to his feet, wincing at the stiffness of his back and neck. Sitting on cold, damp stone for over two hours had not done him any favours, he realised. Instead of agreeing to go inside like a normal, sensible person, however, he found that he was shaking his head.

"Wait, let's stay for a moment."

Remus stared at him, his expression unreadable. "Why? It's cold."

"I know." Sirius turned to look at the werewolf, his hand closing around his thin wrist. "But look." He pointed at the stars. "It's beautiful out here."

This earned him a rather surprised look. "I wouldn't have put you as a stargazer, Black." Remus's tone was nonchalant, almost as though he was simply making conversation, but Sirius, turning from looking up at the celestial bodies, found gold eyes looking at him quizzically. 

"No, well." Sirius coughed, slightly embarrassed. "It's not a hobby or anything – more like I occasionally just…look at them." He blinked, eyes shining in the pale light.

"Why?" Remus was genuinely puzzled, "What's the point?"

"There's no point, it's just…" Sirius drew an exasperated breath, clearly struggling to find a way to explain it. "Have _you_ ever just stopped and looked at them?" He questioned abruptly.

"What? The stars?" Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, haven't you ever wanted to just study them and, for a moment, last forever?"

"Nothing can last forever, you know; not even the stars." Remus turned his head away, uncomfortable with Sirius' bright gaze drilling into him.

A small smile curled the Death Eater's lips. "I'm a star."

"And you won't last forever, either," Remus snapped, nerves fraying slightly.

"Why not?" Sirius gripped his chin, forcing him to look around again. "Why can't we all just last forever?"

"Because." Remus closed his eyes, simply to hide himself from that intent look.

"Because?" A small hint of laughter had wormed its way into Sirius's voice.

"Just because."

There was a small pause, Sirius still gripping Remus's chin. Finally, he released him and took a pace backwards. "Would it be so bad…lasting forever, I mean."

Remus opened his eyes, avoiding looking at Sirius. Instead, he tilted his head backwards, eyes looking directly up. From on high, the stars winked at him, like they knew all his secrets. They were, he realised, actually quite beautiful; very beautiful, in fact.

"Would it?" Sirius's voice was soft, but insistent. 

Turning, Remus looked at his, eyes wide in his face, a sudden, shocking realisation creeping through him. "No…" He said softly, gaze never leaving his companion's, "…No, it wouldn't."

********

James trudged along the road, his boots cracking the faint film of frost that had begun to cover the grass. His breath whistling out in clouds of steam, he rubbed his hands together, trying to will some warmth back into them.

So, according to the latest witness, the Death Eater had taken Remus this way – an interesting choice of direction. 

He frowned and pulled his borrowed muggle jacket tighter around his body, wishing he'd had the foresight to bring his broom or…or…_something_. It would have beat walking, anyway. Still, at least at this pace, he'd be able to reach the small village by sunrise, and, god willing, _someone_ would give him something to eat. After that, he supposed, he'd have to start asking around, find out if anyone had seen anything odd.

His teeth bared in a ferocious grin, James imagined the look on the nameless Death Eaters face when he was hexed into oblivion for kidnapping the auror's friend. Oh yes, whoever it was, they would pay; it was simply a matter of when and, more importantly, _where_.

That was the other problem he'd run into. Apart from the village he was steadily making his way towards, there was that much around the area. A couple more villages and a castle – that was about it. So, it seemed unlikely that Remus had been kept around here.

'_Probably half way to Australia by now_,' James thought, his mood taking a sudden turn for the worst. _'Gods, if only I'd been quicker waking up the next morning or, failing that, checked up on Remus before I went to bed._' Growling, he shook himself. _'Get a grip, Potter, no use wondering about what's already been and done with. Concentrate on the here and now_.'

As the sun began to rise, he made his way into the small village, cold, exhausted, hungry and fiercely determined.

The smell of newly baked bread wafted down the street and he followed it, unthinkingly, until he found himself outside a bakers that was bustling with activity.

A woman, brawny and stern faced stuck her head out of the door. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Yes," James straightened his borrowed jacket and shot her a tired smile. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Celia smiled. "Not at all, as long as it won't interfere with my work."

********

Sirius rolled over, burying his face in the pillow with a small groan.

He'd been woken early by the sound of shouting further down the corridor and, when he'd stuck his head outside to see who it was, Snape had been arguing with Lucius in the middle of the hallway. Both men had looked as though they were on the verge of coming to blows until Sirius – with unerring aim – had hit Snape on the back of the head with a thick tome entitled '101 Curious Curses' and had promptly had to slam the door because they had then turned and looked as though they would have liked to have killed _him_.

And that was partly why he was in his current state of sleeplessness. Perhaps the other thing that had rather a lot to do with it was the fact that on his way back to the comfort and warmth of his bed, he'd spotted Remus, fast asleep.

This was all well and good, of course; after all, just because he, Sirius, had been forced out of his bed by inconsiderate people at the crack of dawn, did not mean that Lupin should be. However, it was the way the man was _laying_. Arms and legs spread-eagled, head tilted back to expose the slim column of his throat and rumpled covers just slipping down his waist. It had been enough to make his mouth water.

And so here he was, wanting to sleep but unable to do so, because every time he shut his eyes, he had to open them again otherwise visions of the bed clothed Remus danced in front of him.

Cursing, the Death Eater punched the pillow and drew his own bed covers still further around himself. Stupid bloody Snape and stupid bloody Malfoy; all their fault, of course. If it hadn't been for them, he'd still be obliviously asleep. Sighing, he frowned and twisted again, so that he was staring at the ceiling. The shirt that the werewolf still insisted he wear was making him hotter than he liked to admit, so he gave up and kicked the covers down to the end of the bed.

The sudden, cool relief sent a small shiver down his spine, and he smiled in pleasure. Shutting his eyes, he relaxed, muscles finally giving up some of the tension they'd been carrying around since his abrupt awakening.

//The room had become warm again, unbearably so, and he found himself wishing that he'd had the foresight to open a window. His hair was sticking to the back of his neck and he could feel the sheets had been dampened to his skin. His shirt was stuck as well and despite its open collar, he felt trapped, half strangled in it. 'Definitely time to pull it off,' he thought, shifting uncomfortably, tossing his head.

_As he was about to sit up, a small trickle of air blew across his skin, causing a small noise of appreciation to escape his lips. 'Maybe someone's opened the window' he thought dreamily. But no, the waft of air was too small for that and too consistent, come to think of it. _

_He paused, considering, but unwilling to open his eyes, let alone move.' If I did that,' he reasoned, 'I'd simply get hotter. Maybe it _is_ better if I just lie here.' Oh but that breeze was nice though._

_It suddenly occurred to him that he was on the opposite side of the room to the window, so the breeze shouldn't be so strong. He also realised two thing simultaneously: that he hadn't heard anyone _open_ the window, and that the soft rushes of air were more like breathing than anything else._

_Shifting, he made to sit up, eyes flying open. But before he could do more than move a few inches, a smooth, cool hand had covered his eyes, whilst another pushed him gently back, so he was lying as still as before._

_"What…" He began, until the hand that was on his chest moved, placing a finger on his lips instead._

_"I want you to be quiet." The voice was low, barely more than another breath of air. "I want you to be quiet, and I want you to hold still." Then the hands and the presence were gone._

_"Lupin, where on earth-"_

_"I said be quiet." The voice murmured, sounding right next to his ear, sending another small gust of cool breath across his shoulder. _

_Then, shockingly, a cloth slipped over his eyes, so even if he'd wanted to, he wouldn't be able to see anything. The mattress shifted slightly, and he gripped the bed sheets closer to himself, feeling inexplicably nervous._

_"Modesty?" The voice was low and amused. "An unexpected trait, I must confess."_

_"Well I wouldn't have cause to be modest," He said, irritably, "If you'd just go back to – **oh**!" Smooth lips had pressed against his neck, tickling gently as they dragged across his skin. They moved slowly, clearly savouring the feeling. Despite his best efforts, he felt his eyes flutter shut underneath the blindfold, his head tipping just slightly, almost unconsciously, to the side._

_"You were protesting," The voice reminded him. The sound of it… he licked his lips, a small whimper building at the back of his throat at the hint of a growl in that tone. The slight rasping of the voice made him shiver, heat tracing fire through his body to pool low in his stomach._

_"I…y-you…" He managed as two fingers drew slowly, slowly down his neck, following the path of tendons around to the small hollow where his pulse was hammering. There they rested, lightly moving in tiny circles, sending another shiver racing through his body. The other hand – 'and when had that moved?' he wondered fuzzily – had slid around to the base of his skull, fingers wrapped in thick skeins of hair as he felt his head pulled slowly but inexorably upwards._

_A soft, almost gentle kiss was pressed to his brow, just above the line of the blindfold, another came a moment later, on his cheek, before the mouth moved around, pressing a strange, tender kiss to the vulnerable point just behind the lobe of his ear._

_"Are you going to carry on arguing?" Calm, amused, gentle._

_"No…" He shifted, trying to feel something, anything, other than those hands and that mouth. Cautiously, he stretched out his arms, fingers skittering across smooth cotton as he tried to find the body that should be attached to both objects._

_"Ah-ah." A small reprimand, even as hands closed over his wrists, pushing his arms back above his head and into the pillow. "Stay still."_

_"But I want…" He protested, weakly (and since when had his voice acquired that new, needy tone, he wondered?)_

_"You always want." Again, amused. "So behave, and you'll get."_

_Muttering, he subsided slightly, only a small downturn at the corners of his mouth expressing his feeling on the matter._

_"And no sulking, either."_

Oh, but he was commanding, wasn't he? Another entirely new aspect to this enigma of a person that he'd never even considered. He shifted slightly, careful not to move his hands, and his thigh brushed a warm body…//

"Black!" There was a loud banging on the door, jarring him out of his sleep. 

Sitting bolt upright, it took him a moment to realise that he couldn't see a thing. _'No…it can't be…'_ Cautious fingers reached up, smoothing hesitantly over cloth, before they scrabbled, removing it and flinging it to one side. 

Sirius blinked as the light of day streamed into the room and over the startled features of his roommate, who was crouched no more than a few feet away. "Lupin?" The banging on the door continued, he ignored it. "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry…" The werewolf shifted slightly, sliding off the bed. "I don't…I can't…" He turned his back, shoulders stiff with tension. "I don't know why I did that." 

Sirius drew breath to reply, but the banging on the door had got louder, and the yelling from the other side had escalated. "All right, all right! I'm bloody coming!" He yelled, gaze still riveted to Remus's back., an inexplicable smile creeping across his face. 

Staggering giddily out of the bed, he grabbed a robe and pulled it over his head. Striding across the room he pulled Remus forcefully around, kissed him once and then darted out of the room, before the shocked werewolf could register what had happened.

All in all, Sirius decided as he followed Peter down the corridor, it was going to be an interesting day. Suppressing the laugh that threatened to bubble up out of him, he lengthened his stride, catching up with his friend. '_Yes…a very interesting day…_'

Back inside the room the two men shared, Remus Lupin stared out of the window, his expression grim.

_To Be Continued…_

**(1)** Again, as I think I stated in an earlier chapter, this universe doesn't include Harry, does it? So Voldemort could easily have still maintained his looks. ^_^ 


	8. Chapter Eight

**CB:** Beams Looks like I'm on a roll these past couple of weeks. Hurrah!

_I grieve and dare not show my discontent,_

_I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,_

_I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,_

_I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate._

_I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,_

_Since from myself another self I turned._

- **Elizabeth I**

It was, James reflected sourly, a funny old world.

He was standing on top of a hill, in the faint drizzle that had been persistently dampening the landscape since lunchtime, wearing nothing but an old coat and unable to use a warming charm to free his body from the chill that now dogged him. He was also (and this was probably the biggest cause of his displeasure) currently having to converse with his least favourite person in the world.

"He's being kept under close supervision," Snape was saying, a drip of water hanging off the end of his beak-like nose. "He doesn't go anywhere without _someone_ watching him." He shrugged, looking like a scruffy black crow in his robes. "I tried to get myself assigned to look after him, but Voldemort thought it more appropriate to allow a miscreant like Black to keep an eye on him."

"Black?" James raised an eyebrow, arms folded.

"Yes." Snape sneered, his expression disgusted. "Sirius Black. Wanted on at least two accounts of murder. Killed his own parents." He paused, a curious expression flitting across his face. "I must confess," He said eventually, "I didn't expect you to be looking for Lupin – he's not really _that_ significant to our forces, is he?"

"No." James's face was grim. "But he _is_ my friend, Snape."

"Ah." Snape turned his head to look out over the landscape. "I was surprised when he turned up. A very good job, I would say, that he doesn't know I'm on his side." He smiled nastily. "Although it did surprise me that Dumbledore hadn't contacted me before this to see if he was in the area. Clearly he can't be _that_ important…even to our side."

"We just weren't sure where he was!" James snapped, "What would have been the point in risking your cover with a meeting like this if we hadn't been sure."

"So how _did_ you find out?" Snape looked genuinely interested. "I certainly didn't tell anyone – I could hardly risk sending a message unless it was for something vital, and Lupin clearly wasn't."

"I had a chat with some of the locals this morning. One of the baker's told me there was a lot of activity at the castle."

"I see." Snape frowned. "What are you planning to do? You can't rely on my help in getting the werewolf back – it'd blow my cover for sure."

James shrugged. "I'll think of something. In the meantime, keep an eye on him, will you?"

Snape nodded and started back down the hill. He paused, however, having gone no more than a couple of steps. "One more thing, Potter: it may be nothing, but your friend has grown a lot closer to Black, recently." He turned hard black eyes on James, his expression grim. "I'd make sure you take that into consideration."

It had started off as a fairly normal day, Remus reflected miserably.

He'd been happily asleep when, without warning, a thump and a shrieked curse had woken him.

Lying still, he'd watched Sirius (who had presumably been the cause of the thump and subsequent swearing) pull his head back into the room and stagger back to his own bed. Through narrowed eyes, the werewolf hadn't twitched as the other man paused for a moment, looking towards him, an unreadable expression on his face, before the Death Eater had turned and tumbled back into his own bed with a dull thud.

After that, silence had reined in the room, broken only occasional by a small sigh from Sirius and the slight shifting of bedclothes.

After one particularly long bout of shifting, Remus had rolled over, giving up on sleep, when the form in the next bed caught his eye.

Sirius had obviously become too warm in the small, slightly stuffy room, and he' kicked the covers down to the end of his bed. This exposed him (albeit unconsciously) to his roommate's slightly dazed view.

Long, lean legs were slightly sprawled, uncovered thanks to the pair of boxers Sirius was wearing. The sunlight streamed across smooth skin, turning it a strange, honeyed colour, the shirt that the Death Eater had been forced to wear had slipped up, exposing his abdomen and the slim swoop of the top of hipbones. Arms were stretched above the man's head in a strange parody of something bordering on crucifixion and dark hair stained the pillow with sleek rivers of black.

Remus's mouth went dry.

Sirius shifted again, turning his body slightly towards Remus, a peaceful smile slipping across his features, and that had been it.

And now he, Remus Lupin, had done the most unthinkable, unspeakable thing ever. He had very nearly turned Sirius Black's attitude on its head and seduced _him_.

_Well it wasn't me_. The wolf's voice was crisp and precise at the back of his mind. _You know perfectly well I have no influence over you at the moment_.

"I know," Remus said softly, gaze riveted at the window.

_Am I right in thinking he was something of a temptation?_

"Yes."

_I see…_ Although the wolf made no further comment, Remus felt the slight amusement in its tone and could practically hear the approval.

Sighing, the werewolf turned away from the window and sank down onto the edge of the bed. Burying his face in his hands, he let out a small whimper of despair as he tried unsuccessfully to block the morning from his mind.

_…Skin that was so, so tempting, lips that were eager and begging to be kissed…_

Fighting back the urge to howl, Remus stood up abruptly, slamming his palm against the wall. His breathing was harsh in his ears as he stared sightlessly ahead of himself, and it took him several heartbeats to realise that his fingers were curling and uncurling. 

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, fighting back the surge of memory and ran a shaking, distracted hand through his hair. Yes, Sirius had been a temptation, but if he was brutally honest with himself (and he forced himself to be) then he really should have been able to resist him.

So, it was voluntary then.

Not even wanting to _think_ about that prospect, Remus sat down again. Cradling his chin in his hands, he stared sightlessly at the floor. The sun streamed through the window, warming his face and outside he could hear the distant chatter of birds and the soft sounds of nature.

Gaze roving the room, his eyes eventually came to rest on a slim leather book, left carelessly on the floor by Sirius's bed. Curiosity getting the better of him, Remus stooped forwards and picked it up. Fingers tracing the cover, he flipped it open to a random page and began to read.

'_September 17th _

_Peter talked to me last night. He's worried – I don't blame him. Everyone knows our Lord is planning something, but none of us are entirely sure what. I've got a bad feeling about it, anyway. This morning Snape made a couple of remarks that insinuated he, at least, knew what was going to happen, and that it would affect me._

_Maybe I'm just being a little bit paranoid. Probably._

_Still, I'd rather someone told me what was going on; I didn't suffer through hell and back just to be kept in the dark. I suppose my one consolation is that Lucius doesn't know what's happening either – if he did, he'd be _UNBEARABLE_. _

_September 18th _

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god._

_I found out what was happening – but too late, far too late._

_Peter came to me in a terrible state last night. He'd overheard Voldemort talking to the Lestranges. They were going to go to a house and kill two people, he told me, and these two people were…_

Remus snapped the book shut with a sharp curse under his breath. He'd found Sirius's diary, of course, and no matter how much he would have liked an insight into the other man's mind, he refused to stoop so low as to invade his privacy.

Placing the book carefully back where he'd found it, he rubbed his eyes, which were aching. '_Odd,'_ he thought vaguely, _'I'm not feeling very well_.' Placing an unsteady hand to his suddenly hurting head, he blinked as the room swam slightly. _'What on earth is going on here?_'

_Er…_ The wolf stirred at the back of his mind. _I could be wrong, but…I think it might be this_. Its presence shifted slightly, revealing a small, hard feeling at the back of his mind. This new sensation glittered in Remus' mind's eye, a pale, shimmering white.

"A spell? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" The werewolf gritted his teeth as the wolf laughed, an apple flavoured emotion that was not his own.

_Because it links us to Him, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, _It said.

"Idiot! If you had told me earlier we might have…"

_Escaped?_ The wolf's voice had a great deal of dry irony in it, _I doubt it – they would only have found us again._

"Idiot!" Remus snarled, forgetting to lower his voice.

_Hardly_, the wolf was clearly irritated; _It wasn't me that was attracted to him in the first place._

"You're lying."

_No, I'm not. Besides, I'm not human, how could I feel attraction to one of _your_ species? It was you, only you; I've simply been a scapegoat from the start._

"That's not…" The words stuck in Remus's throat.

_A beautiful smile with the backdrop of the first roses…the spark of defiance and determination in sharp, smoky eyes…sleek black hair…_

_'Oh gods…_'

_You see?_ The wolf sounded patient, almost as though he were simply gently chiding.

"It's true…you're right. I…it's true." Remus froze, a trembling hand gripping the bedcovers beneath him, balling them in his fist. '_Oh GOD!'_

_'What the?!' _ A new voice entered his mind, and Remus grabbed his head, whimpering in panic, even as the wolf retreated hastily, fading from the back of his mind. In its place, the spell gleamed with a cold hardness. '_R-Remus?'_

'_I'm going mad," _Remus thought dreamily, '_I'm hearing voices in my head and they sound like Sirius_.'

_'A fine bloody mess this is, then,'_ the voice grumbled, '_if you're going mad, I must be too, since I can hear YOU in MY head.'_

_'…Oh.'_

_'Yes, 'oh'.' _Sirius's voice rang with impatience, '_Now what in the name of Merlin is going on, if you please?'_

_'Er…_' Remus thought hard for a moment, eyebrows knitted in concentration. _'Wait! The spell!'_

_'Spell? What spell?'_ Innocence coated Sirius's voice like honey.

'That spell you've put on me, you…' 

_'Oh THAT spell. No, that wasn't me.'_

_'Then who-?'_

_'Voldemort.'_ The voice was serious. _'My Lord didn't want you vanishing without a trace – it links us, see?'_

_'But,'_ Remus rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the headache that was building there, _'That doesn't explain why you've suddenly 'appeared' in my head.'_

_'No…' _Sirius's voice was thoughtful, _'Maybe this is supposed to happen?'_

_'I doubt it.'_

There was a long, awkward pause, before Sirius's voice returned. _'It might be because you were thinking of me at the time…' _He sounded horribly embarrassed, Remus realised. _'You never know…maybe it was triggered by, er, strong emotion or…something_.'

''_Strong emotion.'' _Remus looked thoughtful.

_'Yeah_. _Look, whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll meet you out in the courtyard. We'll go for a walk._'

"So…"

"So…" Remus repeated, turning his head to look out over the landscape.

The two wizards had walked a good two miles outside of the village in awkward silence. The only sound had been the soft sound of the birds and the occasional indignant splutter from Sirius as he had inadvertently tripped into random potholes along the path. Remus, naturally, had avoided them with his sharper eyesight and higher attention span. Climbing a hill, Sirius had pointed out a stout looking oak tree, under which they'd both sat, uncomfortably aware of how awkward the atmosphere between them was.

"What was all that about, this morning?" Sirius said suddenly, eyes fixed on Remus.

The werewolf knotted his fingers in his lap, biting his lip. "This morning…" He said softly, swallowing hard.

"Mm." Despite the tense topic, Sirius looked astoundingly relaxed.

"I can't explain it." Amber eyes turned towards the Death Eater, and Remus's expression was worried and unbearably serious. "I really can't." He closed his eyes, a small sigh escaping his lips. "I didn't think about it. It was instinct."

"The werewolf side of you?" Sirius sounded genuinely curious as he shifted slightly closer, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs. 

And this was what Remus had been dreading. Taking a deep breath, he stared straight into Sirius' eyes. "No."

"I see." Sirius nodded almost absently and leant back against the tree trunk with a small thump. Chewing his lower lip, he drummed his fingers against his jean clad knee, grey eyes flitting across the view from the top of the hill. "Not instinct, huh?"

"No."

Another long pause – this time slightly less awkward; more thoughtful. Remus frowned, picking at a blade of grass as his gaze turned downwards. Suddenly, a slim hand reached into his vision, grasping his fingers in a warm grip. Startled, the werewolf looked up into smiling grey eyes.

"You're a puzzle, Remus Lupin." Barely more than a whisper, but full of warmth – making the sentence almost like a private joke between the two of them. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who has confused me as much as you." Dimples around the full lips, a small smile that, Remus realised, was meant purely for him. "You and your noble attitude, your simple view of life and what is right…" Sirius shook his head, grip tightening on Remus's hand, "You're so strange."

"Strange?" Remus found his own voice was a whisper.

"Strange." Sirius said firmly, and for the first time, Remus saw honest truth in his eyes, "But you make me a better person." He let out a small, slightly hollow laugh. "Damnit, this is _not_ supposed to have happened."

"What's not?"

"I – "

There was the sound of cursing from the other side of the hill, and both men jumped to their feet, startled. The bushes behind the oak tree rustled furiously and a figure emerged from them, brushing twigs, leaves and bits of dirt from his messy, dark hair.

Remus's mouth fell open. "_James_?"

The man looked up, glasses askew on his nose, expression startled. "_Remus?_" He blinked, frozen to the spot as he stared at his missing friend with an expression that was a cross between disbelief and just plain relief. "You're all right?"

"I…Yes…" Remus shook his head, trying to get over the sudden abrupt appearance of his friend. "Why on earth are you here?" He managed eventually, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I came to rescue you." James's hazel eyes darted past Remus and caught sight of Sirius, who was standing just behind him, a curious expression on his face. "Who's this?"

"Uh…" Remus's expression was slightly dazed. "This is Sirius, James."

"Black!" In a split second, James's wand was out and pointing straight at Sirius, who looked considerably startled by the rapid reaction of the Auror. "You kidnapped him," he snarled, advancing on Sirius, rage in his face. "Do you have _any idea_ the amount of suffering you have caused myself and the rest of our friends?"

Sirius backed away slowly, cursing his lack of common sense. His wand, he realised with a sinking feeling, was sitting back in his room at the castle and he had nothing with which to defend himself against the enraged man. His gaze darted to Remus, who was staring at the scene in horror, but not moving. So, no help there, either. "Look," He said reasonably, holding up his hands to show his was unarmed, "I haven't done anyth–"

"Shut up!" James snarled, levelling his wand at the Death Eater's heart. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses. I know all about you, Black." His lip curled in disgust, face twisted with fury. "And if you think I'm going to spare your life after the hell you've put me through…"

"James." Remus's voice lashed out like the crack of a whip, causing the Auror to pause, although his eyes never left Sirius's face. "Leave him alone."

"Remus, he's responsible for the deaths of innocents, he _kidnapped you_, I am NOT letting him get away."

Sirius nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Not two minutes ago, everything had started to seem right in the world. '_Once again, God kicks me in the shins and spits on my upturned face_,' He thought ironically. _'Now, I'm about to be killed by a bloody idiot whose glasses aren't even on straight_.' 

"You." James spat, turning his attention back to Sirius.

As the Death Eater raised defiant eyes to meet his accuser's, the Auror screamed a single word: "_Stupefy_!"

'_Oh,_' Thought Sirius, as he felt the spell hit, _'I'm in for it now_.'

And the world faded to black.

To Be Continued… 

**CB:** Not at _all_ happy with this chapter, I really don't think it flows at all, but I'm too tired to change it now. Oh well, the next chapter really starts to kick things off. 


	9. Chapter Nine

**CB:** Hmm, didn't think I'd start writing this chapter so quickly – but this _is_ the one that started it all off, particularly one scene…I'll let you guess which.

**Extra Warning:** Some physical violence and torture in this chapter.

'_What lovers convey in a glance, it would take_

_a thousand years for the rest of us to say.'_

- **L.A. 'The Swan And The Singer**

The steam curled up out of the teacup and into the warm, cosy atmosphere of Dumbledore's study. The clock ticked quietly in the corner, it's pendulum swinging slowly back and forth, and on the walls, several generations of headmasters looked down with benign disapproval upon their wizened faces.

All of this was lost on Remus, however, who was simply staring into space; hands folded neatly in his lap, ignoring the cup of tea in front of him.

There was the quiet click of a door shutting, and Dumbledore ambled over and sat down behind his desk. Peering over the top of his half moon spectacles, he rested his hands on the desk in front of him, leaning forwards to gaze at the newly returned auror.

"Mr Lupin." Puzzled amber eyes turned towards Dumbledore, who smiled serenely, "It is good to have you back."

"Thank you, sir." The werewolf's voice was quiet, precise, and totally without any emotion.

Another long silence ensued, until Dumbledore cleared his throat, indicating the teacup with a nod of his head. "I take it you don't wish to have a drink?"

"No."

A flick of the wand and the tea had vanished, leaving only a very small tea stain where the cup had rested on the table. "Mr Lupin, I must admit that I am curious as to how you were treated whilst you were in captivity." Dumbledore's kind blue eyes twinkled. "You look remarkably well, and I must confess some surprise at this. I would have thought at the very least you would have been tortured for information."

"I was not ill treated." Remus turned his head to look at one of the paintings (which frowned disapprovingly at him), deliberately avoiding Dumbledore's gaze.

"No, apparently not. You know, James was extremely worried about you."

"Indeed."

The Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed, suddenly looking much older. "Remus, you are not making this conversation easy," He chided gently, "I am _not_ your enemy."

"What do you wish to talk about then?" The werewolf's voice was tight as his jaw twitched, his lips thinning into a line.

"Many things," Dumbledore smiled wearily, "Most of which can wait. However, there are a few that _can't_. The enemy's resources, for example; did you happen to see how many Death Eaters Voldemort had in that castle?"

"No." Remus's hands curled slightly in his lap. "I was kept mostly by myself or with…" He clamped his mouth shut again and looked away once more.

"Ah yes, with Sirius." Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "He is another topic I wish to discuss with you." He paused, rubbing his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "James brought him back here. I, personally, would have deemed it more advisable to _keep_ him here, but alas, the Ministry deemed otherwise – he was taken away to be questioned." If this was meant to provoke Remus, it didn't, so Dumbledore continued. "The officials stayed only long enough to tell me that it might be necessary for you to validate anything he tells them. They also informed me that, if you so wished, since you were captured and presumably ill-treated, you may come and watch Black's questioning."

Hard amber eyes turned towards the headmaster and Remus's lips drew back in a fierce smile. "Yes, I'd like to see that." His voice dripped with icy venom – something that was completely uncharacteristic for him, and Dumbledore found himself wondering whether he should simply have put off this interview until another time.

"Remus, I understand that you must have gone through a very difficult time, so I'll talk to you later." The headmaster stood up, indicating that the interview had ended, and opened the door of his office. "If you need anything, anything at all, just come and talk to me and I'll see what I can do."

"Yes." The Auror stood as well and made to walk out. He paused, however, one hand resting on the doorframe, face showing a flicker of indecision. "Professor, if…Black hadn't actually killed anyone…"

"…He would still have to face charges of being party to the atrocities the Death Eaters commit, and that is a life sentence." Dumbledore's voice was firm but kind.

"I see."

The faces flickered in and out of his vision, always with grim expressions.

Tell us… 

No.

_Tell. Us._

No!

He gritted his teeth, tasting blood in his mouth as pain slammed into him again, making his knees buckle, sending him sprawling to the floor. The ground was cold under his cheek – the only sensation he could feel apart from the never-ending, brutal torment. His fingers scrabbled vainly at the floor, even as his back arched in another wracking wave of agony that blazed through him.

_If you don't tell us, we will simply wring the truth out of you scream by scream._

The pain stopped and he blinked, unable to see through the haze that clouded his mind and eyes. He could feel blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and his nose (was it broken? He wondered dizzily) and at least one arm was surely badly injured. Nonetheless, he had just enough sense to try to push himself up onto his knees. Hair hanging in his eyes, he grunted with the effort and pain.

A force like a large hand knocked him flat again and he felt a finger break as he landed awkwardly on his hand. He cried out once, then bit his lip to stop another noise breaking free from him. He would not give them the satisfaction.

_So that's the way you want it to be._

This time white-hot heat rammed itself through his skull, making it feel as though someone had stabbed a heated poker through his eye. He bit his lip so hard that he felt skin rip beneath his teeth and his body shook with the screaming suffering of his mind.

_Now, tell us what Voldemort plans to do._

He shook his head, fresh blood spilling from between his lips, too tired to even voice a denial. _'Just hold on,_' a voice was saying in his head, _'Hang in there, you've survived this before, you can survive it again_.'

Before. He didn't want to think about before.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he rested his head against cold, gritty concrete and waited for the inevitable fresh burst of pain. But as if reading his mind, the voices vanished.

"He's tough," He heard a voice say somewhere above him, "Maybe we should extract his memories? Get him to talk that way?"

"Might be worth a try." A second voice, thoughtful, "But we should probably wait until the witness gets here in the morning – he can at least validate what we'll see then."

Witness? What witness? What were they walking about? His mind spinning with questions, the prisoner coughed again, weakly, and felt blood splatter the floor by his mouth, but he was too exhausted to care. _'Blood loss,_' His mind supplied, _'Whatever you do, try to stay awake._' He blinked once, twice, but the pain in his body was crushing, and when darkness covered his mind, he couldn't fight it.

Remus… 

"Very kind of you to come, Mr Lupin, particularly after all the trauma you must have gone through recently." The small, plump clerk (who reminded Remus somewhat vaguely of Peter) hurried ahead of him, chattering breathlessly. "Simply _awful_ being captured by Death Eaters, I must say, but at least you're safe now."

James, who was striding along next to Remus, shot his friend a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. The werewolf didn't _look_ pleased to be free and safe again; indeed, he looked positively grim. _'Perhaps,_' James thought, _'It's just because he's tired._'

They paused outside a small, unobtrusive door with the word 'Private' written on it in small, gold letters. The clerk rapped once on it, and was rewarded with a 'come in'. Pushing the door open, he ushered Remus and James inside before shutting the door quickly and quietly behind them. Nodding his head towards the middle of the room, he murmured, "You are to join these gentlemen." Before he scuttled backwards like a startled crab, melting into the shadows in a corner of the room.

"Mr Lupin." One of the men sitting around the table stood up, hand outstretched. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you. You are quite a hero after the agony you must have endured at the hands of those villains."

'_A hero?_' The werewolf thought bitterly, even as he accepted the man's proffered hand with a polite smile, _'Hah, if they really knew what I am…they wouldn't be half so polite. Not like…_' He shut the train of thought off abruptly and sat in the seat indicated.

The room was fairly dark, but one of the walls had been substituted for a huge window that looked out into a small, concrete cell with nothing in it. A table and chairs sat in the room they were currently in, and the stark contrast of the comfort of the room and the brutal coldness of the cell beyond was almost shocking. As Remus watched, the rest of the men in the room settled back into their chairs around the table, and James sank down next to him.

"Fudge," He murmured, nodding to the man who had shaken his hand. "Not a particularly bright fellow, but fairly amiable all the same." His finger flickered in the direction of the man sitting next to the affable Fudge. "Crouch, a near sure bet for the next Minister of Magic, not exactly a pleasant man." Indeed, Crouch didn't look it. His face appeared permanently frozen in a grim expression and his hooked nose and something that vaguely resembled Snape about it.

"The two to the right of them I don't know," James continued under his breath, "But the one next to them is old Ernest Weasley – you know, Arthur's father."

Remus nodded and turned his attention to Crouch, who had stood up.

"Mr Lupin, I know this must have been a difficult time for you," He began, "And let me say on behalf of myself and my colleagues that we are grateful that you could come today." He gave a cold smile. "I hope you don't mind, but we've taken the liberty of setting up an interrogation – we need you to testify to everything the prisoner says." He turned his head towards the large window and Remus's heart dropped like a stone.

Oh god...no… 

The door of the cell opened, and two ministry guards came through, dragging what looked like a large bundle between them. Slinging their burden to the floor, they straightened and stepped back smartly – something almost military in their actions.

Remus's hands curled and he bit his lip.

 _No, no, no, it can't be, it isn't…_

The bundle shifted, and it became evident that it was a person as it moved one hand, fingers scraping slowly along the floor. Black hair hung lank and messy around the person's face, matted with blood and dirt, obscuring their eyes from view. Robes, pale blue, ('_just like the ones that day in the garden_', Remus thought, bile rising in his throat) hung in tatters off a lean body, now massed with large, angry wounds that still slowly dripped blood.

It is…they…they've hurt him… 

He felt sick as he stood abruptly, swaying on his feet. "I'm sorry, I cannot do this."

"Mr Lupin, I understand your emotion at finally seeing your captor get his just reward, but I must insist that you stay." Crouch's voice was icy, implacable.

The prisoner in the cell shifted again, finally raising his head, and pain dulled grey eyes stared straight at the glass for a moment before looking away. One of the guards came forward again, pulling the prisoner back onto his feet and shoving him against a wall.

Crouch nodded. "Begin the extraction process."

In the cell, the second guard pulled out his wand and held it straight at the prisoner's heart, murmuring something that could not be heard through the thick glass. There was a blinding flash of light that dazzled the onlookers, and then suddenly, shockingly, an image flickered across the surface of the glass of the window. The scene was faded, slightly blurred at the edges – rather like they were watching an old film, and Remus staggered backwards, mouth dry as he realised this particular scene.

_"Charms…late…Feezle…."_ His younger self crouched next to a young man with long black hair, shoving books back into his arms.

_"Hey, don't worry."_ The boy was looking at him, a small smile on his face. _"It's probably my fault as well…"_

Remus stood still, heart pounding in his chest as his younger self vanished, leaving the young, dark haired man and his friend alone in the image.

"Sirius…are you ok?" 

_"Hmm? Oh, yes, fine."_ Curious grey eyes flickered briefly off to one side. _"That boy…who was he?"_

_"Him? Ah, just a Gryffindor."_

_"A Gryffindor."_ A small smile, playing around the boy's lips, _"But an interesting one…_"

The scene shifted and Remus realised James was staring at him, his face white. "That was.." He hissed, clearly not wanting the other occupants of the room to overhear.

"Yes…" Remus swallowed. Hard. Helplessness crashed over him in waves as he stared, unseeing, at his friend.

_'I met someone…I was…coming back from the library…'_ Sirius's voice rang through his head and his breath caught in his throat. Sirius hadn't asked where he'd seen him at Hogwarts. He didn't need to. He knew.

And he hadn't said anything… 

"Ah, this is interesting." Fudge's voice broke through Remus's turmoil. "It appears he has been here before."

His gaze turning reluctantly back, Remus had to swallow a choked cry that threatened to break free of his lips as he saw the scene unfolding on the glass in front of him.

A younger Sirius, clearly no more than eighteen was hanging, limp against a cold white wall. His wrists were shackled above his head and blood ran in shocking, scarlet line from one corner of his mouth.

"Mother…" 

A woman also in the scene turned towards him, her black hair flying around her face with the force of her abrupt movement.

_"I'm not your mother you miserable child! NEVER call me that again."_

_"Mother, please…don't let them do this to me!"_

_"Silence! You will answer their questions truthfully and you may be given some leniency."_

_"Mother PLEASE!"_

_She stared at him, brown eyes hard. "You are dead to me, Sirius. Do not think that your pleas will mean anything to me. Your relationship with myself and your family finished the day you betrayed the side of light and turned to Voldemort."_

"No…" 

Another burst of white light, and Fudge tapped the glass impatiently. "None of this is at all relevant." He complained loudly, "We are supposed to be learning more about the forces of Voldemort."

As if on cue, the castle flickered across the surface of the glass, showing the large rose garden.

"That's where you found Mr Lupin?" Crouch pointed excitedly at the screen, his gaze on James, who nodded.

The vision flickered again, and the onlookers saw the inside of the castle. Two Death Eaters were walking down one of the corridors, one gripping a book, the other struggling to keep up with the long strides of his companion. As they turned the corner, the vision dimmed, blurred and vanished.

A moment later, it became evident that nothing more was forthcoming and Crouch snorted in disgust. "He's hiding something, you can tell." Waving a hand at one of the guards in the cell to attract the man's attention, he nodded his head, indicating the prisoner.

There was a flash of violet light and Sirius's head snapped back, a harsh scream clawing its way out of his throat, even as he collapsed to his knees. Another flash, and the force of the magic had driven him to the floor. The first guard strode over and gripped the matted black hair, using it to wrench the Death Eater's head to one side. Leaning down, he whispered something in his captive's ear before wrenching him to his feet again.

Stepping back, he indicated that the second guard should continue. There was a third flash of light (this time orange) and Remus heard the physical blow enforced by the magic. Sirius's head was twisted violently to one side, as though he had been slapped, and several of the cuts on his face began to ooze blood again. Staggering forwards, he fell on his hands and knees in front of the glass, just as Crouch waved his hand again, indicating a cease in the torture.

Haunted grey eyes looked up from under the shadow of blood caked hair and their gaze caught Remus's.

Re…mus? 

The werewolf jumped, his breath coming fast, heart hammering. _Sirius?_

Grey eyes were slightly clearer now, and they trapped him so that he was half hypnotised – caught in their spell.

_Please…let me die…_

A step forwards, then another. He didn't realise what he was doing until he felt James's hand on his arm, heard his murmured: "What are you _doing?_" and shook that restraining hand off. He was drowning in pain filled pools of silver and their pull was too strong to resist. Brushing past Crouch, he crashed to his knees in front of Sirius, staring through the glass at him. His throat hurt – caught tight with painful emotion and his soul screamed, at once desperate and longing.

'_He was about to tell me something,_" Remus remembered vaguely as his hand raised itself of its own accord, fingertips brushing cold glass. "_Just before James appeared, he was in the middle of saying something_." And suddenly, hearing the rest of that sentence seemed to be the most important thing in the world.

_I was that boy outside the library…wasn't I?_ His own mind voice, soft, filled with despair.

_Y-yes…_ Sirius's voice in his head, filled with suffering and the tang of extreme pain.

_You didn't tell me_.

_I was going to_.

And now Sirius, from where he was all but collapsed on the floor, reached out with his own hand on the other side of the glass and pressed it palm to palm with Remus's. The werewolf could feel the heat through the cool window and a single, pale tear trembled in the corner of his eye.

Grey eyes gazed up at him trustingly, _lovingly_, out of Sirius's beaten, bloodied face and Remus stood up abruptly.

Striding over to the door, he wrenched it open and flew down the corridor to the next room. Through the glass window, James saw his best friend fling open the door to the cell, shoving past the bemused guards and half crossing, half falling over to where Black was kneeling.

The werewolf dragged him off the floor, crushing him in a desperate embrace.

Arms, painfully weak, were flung around him, and he buried his face in Sirius's shoulder, not caring that the scent of blood, sweat and pain was almost overpowering. Bodies crushed desperately together, nearly _hurting_ with the pressure, but it felt so right, so perfectly _right_ that Remus couldn't have cared less.

Within the other room, Crouch slowly turned angry eyes towards James, who was staring at the scene in front of him, his mouth hanging open.

"What is the meaning of this?" Crouch's voice was cold, furious.

"I…" The bemused auror blinked, glasses flashing in the dim light. "I don't know…"

"Then we're going to find out. Now."

Remus pulled back from the embrace slightly, staring at Sirius. "You…"

The Death Eater stared back.

"You…you _bastard_, Black!" The werewolf snarled, then his lips were crushing against the torn and bloodied ones of his companion's.

Sirius whimpered slightly, pain flaring as Remus's hands cupped his face, accidentally brushing several deep scratches. He did his best to ignore it, however, pushing back hungrily, mouth melding with Remus's as his fingers fisted in the warm robes beneath his fingers.

"Lupin! What on earth are you doing?" Crouch's voice cut through the haze enveloping Remus's mind, and he broke away from Sirius and turned his head, looking up at the enraged Ministry employee who was towering over him.

"Mr Crouch, it is with deep regret that I must state that I cannot testify against the prisoner Sirius Black." The werewolf's eyes were hard shards as he stared at the other man.

"Are you mad?" Crouch snarled, "He's killed thousands of innocent people, Lupin!"

"No. He's killed no one." Remus grasped Sirius's hands, tugging the exhausted man to his feet as he stood up as well. Sirius swayed slightly where he stood and the werewolf wrapped a protective and supporting arm around his waist.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Crouch's face was slowly turning a mottled purple as he fought rising rage. "He's a Death Eater, Lupin! He's terrorised countless people, murdered still more, he follows VOLDEMORT!" His voice rising, the man fought for breath and control. Nostrils flaring, he stared at Remus's defiant expression. "He kidnapped you, treated you badly…"

"Sirius _never_ mistreated me!" Remus snapped, "You all simply assumed that I'd been horribly brutalised."

"Even so, you should not be standing up for this…this…miscreant!"

"No. Maybe I shouldn't be." Remus raised his head, looking down his nose at Crouch with disgust, "But I am."

"Careful what you say, Lupin. Your actions are strongly associating you with one of _them_." He jerked his head at the bloodied Sirius, who was watching the scene with wide, vaguely disorientated eyes.

"Well, if this…" And here Remus protectively pulled Sirius closer, "…is how you treat your prisoner, I'm not surprised!"

Crouch started forwards, clearly intent on wrenching the bedraggled Sirius away from the werewolf, but a low growl stopped him. Remus's lips were drawn back from his teeth, his eyes icy as he stared at the angry man.

"Touch him, Crouch, and you _will_ regret it."

"Madness…this is madness!"

A wand was pulled from the pocket of Remus's robe and aimed at his chest. "I'm going. Sirius is coming with me."

"He is not!" Crouch started forwards, almost without thinking, but the wand raised in a threatening manner, and he froze in his tracks.

"Now get out of the way," Remus's voice was cold, "Or I _will_ kill you."

_To Be Continued…_


	10. Chapter Ten

**CB:** Sorry for taking so long, guys! (Why do all my chapters seem to start like this?)

**A couple of things:** Firstly, FF.Net keeps mucking up my formatting, so if things aren't in italics when they're meant to be, or the spaces between paragraphs suddenly vanish, I apologise. Also, since the uploader doesn't seem to like asterisks, scene changes will now be AaAaAaAa

Secondly, I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you to all the people who have drawn me fanart. I'm…well to say I was happy would be an understatement. Thanks guys!

**Thanks To:** Sona, who once again fiddled around with the smutty stuff for me.

**Extra Warning:** There be smut in this chapter. It's not _overly_ descriptive, but it's there. Be warned.

_'I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion -   
I have shudder'd at it.   
I shudder no more.   
I could be martyr'd for my religion   
Love is my religion   
And I could die for that.   
I could die for you. '  
  - John Keats _

Cries echoed around the Ministry of Magic as people ran to and fro in a state of utter panic. There had been a death eater attack! Crouch had been killed. Crouch had been wounded. A trusted auror had turned out to be a traitor. The infamous Black had killed thirteen members of the inquisition. James Potter had been handed over for questioning. Another attack was expected by tomorrow…

Unheeded, crouched in a corner, two shadowy figures leant closer together and conferred.

"Are you all right?" Remus murmured, the back of one hand brushing Sirius's blood encrusted cheek.

"Nngh." The Death Eater blinked muzzily, licked his lips and drew a deep breath, wincing at the flash of pain in his side. "N-not really," he croaked, "but we have to get out of here. Now." One shaking hand pressed itself against the wall for support, even though he was sitting down. "If they find us…you…they'll…" He shook his head then let out a groan of pain. "Doesn't matter…we need to go."

"I know," gold eyes studied the pain lined face worriedly, "but will you be able to make it to the exit?"

"Sure." Sirius fought back a wave of dizziness and tried to give a reassuring smile, which came out more like a grimace. "Jus' don't expect athletics any time soon."

His speech, Remus noticed with a sinking feeling, was becoming slightly slurred, and his eyes were losing focus.

"Sirius, I need you to stay with me. Try and stay conscious."

"Ah, s-stop worryin'." Sirius blinked several times, not heeding the fresh trickle of blood oozing from a large gash on his forehead. "Le'ss jus' go before someone thinks to look for us here."

Leaning heavily against the wall, he managed to push himself upright, then staggered as his legs promptly buckled under him. Remus's hands shot out and steadied him, gripping him tightly, and they slowly began to make their way down the corridor.

For Remus, every step was a nightmare. The back of his neck prickled and he found himself stiffening at every sound and distant shriek, expecting that at any moment a squad of aurors would descend on them, wands raised, ready to blast himself and Sirius into a new, and probably very lethal, dimension. A yell, close by, made him jump and Sirius tripped, bumping into him and nearly knocking them both to the floor.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry." Remus shot him a strained smile as finally, _finally_ the exit came into sight.

"Remus."

There was a small scuffle and James appeared from one of the side passages, his wand raised and aiming directly at the two men. His face a pale mask, the auror was trembling as he stared at his long time friend.

"James." Remus stared back at him, heart sinking as he saw the stony resolve in the normally gentle brown eyes.

"I can't let you get away."

Next to Remus, Sirius let out a small groan, his head dropping forward to hang limply. Blood splattered the white floor and the gaze of the other two followed its slow scarlet progress across the linoleum for a moment, before James tightened the grip on his wand and looked back up.

"Why did you do it, Re?" His eyes were hard, as though he were looking at a stranger.

"He didn't deserve that treatment, James. Nobody does, no matter what they've done."

"He's killed people."

The werewolf shrugged, steadying Sirius who was by now practically unconscious on his feet. "Maybe. But then, so have we. It works both ways, you know."

"Why did you do it?" James asked again, and his grip tightened, so the wand was levelled at Remus's heart. "You stunned Crouch, I think you killed those two guards, you've turned the ministry into a suspicious, panic stricken, useless organisation in the space of half an hour. Why?" He stared at him; face pale, "What is worth all of that? What is worth the risk of losing everything, even your life if the ministry catches up with you?"

Remus made no reply, merely looked at the ground.

"Tell me." James's eyes were blazing and he was shaking with barely suppressed fury. "_What is worth it_?"

The golden gaze rose slowly, defiantly, to meet the accusing glare, and Remus straightened, his chin coming up. It was as though a realisation had just manifested itself in his mind – as though, for the first time in his life, he knew exactly what was right, and that there was no contradicting it.

"Shall I tell you?" He said, quietly, but with enough force behind the words that it was almost as though he had shouted. "Shall I tell you what is worth all of that?" His eyes were grave, but his lips curled into a small, hard smile. "He is." He said simply.

"You…" James stared at him, disbelief written across his face. "You're willing to lose all that for _him_?" He spat the last word in the direction of Sirius, who raised his head to blink tiredly at the enraged auror.

"I am willing to _die_ for him, if necessary." Remus's voice was cold. "Now move, or I'll be forced to hurt you, James."

The panicked shout of a ministry member – close this time, no more than two corridors away – made James jump, and he licked his lips nervously. "Remus…you don't mean… you can't mean…"

"I mean it. Now _move_."

The sound of footsteps coming closer made James hesitate, his eyes darting left.

"Remus…"

 A plea.

"Get out of the way," Remus snarled, his lips curling back to bare his teeth as he hefted Sirius's practically dead weight.

James paused for a heartbeat longer, then nodded, stepping to one side and lowering his wand.

"Get out of here," he said, simply, jerking his head towards the exit. "I'll hold them for as long as I can."

"What?" Remus gaped at him in disbelief. "I'm not asking you to do that, James."

His friend smiled, face sad. "No, but it's probably the last thing I'll be able to do to help."

Remus swallowed hard, biting his lip. "James – "

"I heard something – down that way!" The cry was loud in their ears, and Sirius staggered forwards, wrenching away from Remus's supporting hands.

"We have to go," he rasped. "Now."

"I saw something!" A second voice shrieked, and the sound of running footsteps echoed loudly.

"_Go_." James's face was determined as he brushed past them, his wand raised. "Go now, I'll see what I can do to hold them off." He shot a final smile at Remus, who returned it hesitantly, before striding off down the corridor, his voice ringing out clearly. "Nothing down this way, post guards at the end of the corridor – make sure they can't get out through here."

Remus stood there, staring after him, until he felt Sirius tugging at his hand.

"Come on," the Death Eater was muttering, "let's go."

"Yes." Shaking himself out of his shocked stupor, Remus flung an arm around Sirius's waist, half supporting, half carrying the injured Death Eater to the lift. Within moments they were soaring up and out into the bright sunshine of London.

Staggering out of the phone booth, they both fell to the pavement in a tangle of limbs, blinking in the sudden light. Sirius let out a small yelp as he landed heavily on his hands and knees, jarring his broken finger, and an elderly lady, pushing her battered trolley along the pavement, jumped at the abrupt appearance of the two men.

Remus frowned as he pushed himself back up onto his hands and knees.

"Sirius? Are you ok?"

"Me?" The Death Eater stared at him out of hazy eyes. "I'm jus' f – " He cut himself off by coughing abruptly, a loud, tearing sound, that caused several cuts on his face to reopen. As Remus stared worriedly at him, a small trickle of blood wormed its way from one corner of his mouth to drip down his unnaturally pale skin.

"You need help?" The old lady had ambled over with her shopping trolley, and she now poked Remus in the side, giving him a tooth-gapped grin. "Your friend sick? Need doctor?" Her voice, heavily accented, was as harsh as a crow's, and equally loud. Remus, trying desperately to support the still coughing Sirius, stared up at her, a look of gratitude spreading across his features.

"No, ma'am, thank you. But tell me, is there a hotel or something around here?"

"Hotel, hotel." She tapped her wrinkled chin with one bony finger, considering. "Yes, yes! Hotel just around the corner!" She cackled triumphantly, her fading memory supplying her with the answer. "No more than three streets away," she added, shooting a suspicious look at Sirius, who was shakily attempting to wipe some of the blood away from his face and failing, as more simply appeared each time.

"You sure you no want doctor?" She enquired; casting a dubious look at the two men still crouched on the ground.

"No. No doctor," Remus said firmly, hauling Sirius to his feet.

"Ok." She shrugged and jabbed her hitherto unnoticed umbrella down the road. "I show you. This way, eh?"

"Thank you." Remus followed her, supporting Sirius.

AaAaAaAaAa

The room was dark and dingy. One small bed lay in the centre of the floor, its mattress sagging sadly. Two curtains that might – in their earlier days – have been pink, framed a grimy window, their material a dubious looking shade of grey. The carpet underfoot was sticky, the flowers on it a garish, flattened orange and the walls were painted a pale cream, but time and other occupants had worn away the white, replacing it with dirty streaks and the occasional view of concrete underneath.

Sirius lay on the bed, his breathing rapid and shallow. Blood and sweat stuck his hair to his face and neck and his clothes, already in shreds, clung to his body for the same reason. His eyes were slitted, almost as though against a bright light (although the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling could be called feeble at best) and his fingers were clutching the blanket beneath them so tightly that his knuckles showed starkly under his skin.

Remus watched him solemnly, noting the flicker of grey eyes through the narrow slits of eyelids and wincing as every breath Sirius took made a harsh, rasping sound, followed by a cough that spilt more blood down the Death Eater's chin.

Biting his lip, the auror stepped quietly up to the side of the bed, clutching the first aid kit he had politely requested from behind the desk in the reception of the seedy hotel.

"Sirius?" A low murmur as he opened the box, bringing out bandages, antiseptic cream and cotton wool swabs.

"Y-yeah?"

"I need you to try and stay awake for as long as possible for me, ok?" Graceful hands picking up a damp cloth, carefully working loose the dried blood off of pale cheeks and forehead.

"No problem…" Sirius shuddered, his breath the loudest noise in the room.

"I can't really heal you with my wand until we've cleaned your wounds up a bit," Remus said apologetically.

Sirius let out a low whine of pain as the cloth accidentally brushed into the deep cut on his forehead. "Hurtsssss…"

"I know, just lie still for me." Carefully, Remus applied some cream to his fingertips then gently rubbed the antiseptic substance into the smaller cuts on the other man's face and neck. "We need to get you out of these robes," he murmured as he did so. "I don't want to move you, but…" Glancing down, his gaze fell on a pair of surgical scissors and he picked them up, thoughtfully.

Sirius watched him, clearly forcing his eyes as wide as possible.

"Maybe…" Remus leant closer, scissors in hand.

"If you're going to kill me," Sirius rasped, "do it now."

"Kill you?" Lupin nearly dropped the scissors in shock. "Why would I do that?"

But Sirius, who had been fighting a losing battle against a mild concussion, merely muttered something under his breath, his eyes drifting closed.

"No! Sirius, _stay awake_." Remus pinched the Death Eater's hand and heard a disgruntled murmur from somewhere above. "Keep talking to me," he continued, glancing briefly up from his work of cutting Sirius's robes away to make sure that the grey eyes were actually open.

"How…" Sirius winced and licked his lips. "Why did you save me?"

'_Straight for the jugular_,' Remus thought with a kind of bitter humour. "I didn't wish to see you tortured," he said at length, picking up a roll of bandages.

Sirius sniffed, the sharp scent of antiseptic filling his nose. "Not worth your life to save me," he reprimanded, blinking owlishly as another wave of dizziness overtook him.

"Yes it was."

And this, Sirius reflected, was enough to startle him at least somewhat out of his pain filled haze. Glancing down at the bent head of light brown hair and the pale, graceful hands that were busy tying a bandage around his lower arm, he let out a small sigh.

"Re…" he began, but a sudden, sharp pain in his ribs made him shudder, gasp for air so hard that his body twitched in a convulsive jerk, and the world grew very dark and distant. Somewhere nearby he could hear Remus talking to him, but couldn't make out the words – just the pleasant, soothing noise. With a great deal of reluctance, he gave himself up to a state of unconsciousness, only managing one clear, rueful thought before he vanished from the waking world.

_'I have the worst timing…_'

AaAaAaAa

A television hummed quietly in the next room, its noise barely discernable from the rumble of traffic and the chatter of pedestrians outside. A clock beeped once, twice, and then fell silent, marking the time as five o'clock. Downstairs somewhere, there was a clatter as a waiter dropped several trays in the kitchen, and then the muffled sound of a chef, cursing loudly in what sounded like Spanish.

Sirius stirred, his eyelids twitching as his fingers curled into his palm, nails biting into the tender skin, leaving white imprints. Slowly, drowsily, the Death Eater shifted, rolling onto his side with a small sigh.

Downstairs, a telephone began to ring, and Sirius, already on the verge of waking up, gave a small shudder and opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that the room he was in didn't look at all familiar. Instead of the warm oak floor and pale walls he had expected to see, there was a disgusting carpet and grimy concrete. Frowning, his gaze flickered up to glare accusingly at the bare light bulb, before he rolled slowly and carefully onto his back.

That was when he noticed the second thing.

He was covered in bandages, some already soaked with fresh blood. A dull pain throbbed in his side, whilst a cautious exploration with his hand of his forehead revealed that a long gash was running parallel across his skin. He had a headache that was thumping through his skull and his lips were dry and cracked. His throat, when he drew breath, stung as though it were hoarse from screaming, and his little finger on his left hand had swollen and turned an interesting mixture of purple and black.

Frowning, he shifted his head slightly, looking to his other side, and his gaze connected with the gaze of the other occupant of the room.

Remus was sitting on a hard wooden chair next to the bed, staring at him with a mixture of apprehension and relief.

"You're awake, then," he murmured, leaning forwards to brush a dark strand of hair back from Sirius's face.

"Yeah…" Sirius winced at the raw edge to his voice and licked his dry lips. "Where are we?"

"In a hotel." Graceful hands gently pulled the duvet back to check on the large wound on his abdomen. "This seemed like the best place to let you recover before we…" Remus shrugged, helplessly, tugging the duvet back over the pale body. "Well, this seemed like the best place for you to recover."

Sirius nodded painfully. "You…rescued me, didn't you?" It wasn't really a question. "I remember…" he frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "I remember…"

_/Pain…flash of light…harsh voices… "Tell us!"…more pain…amber eyes…Remus…_/

"I don't remember much, actually," he rasped. "Just…pain a-and then you."

"Well, that about sums it up, anyway," Remus said gently. He smiled and carefully rested his hand on top of the pale one lying limp on the bed. "I'm not surprised you're a bit confused. They were…" he swallowed hard, gaze skittering away. "They were hurting you terribly." The words sounded feeble, pathetic, almost like an excuse or an apology and not at all the way Remus had meant them, but looking at Sirius's grey eyes, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding.

There was a long silence, both men simply sitting there, Remus absent-mindedly rubbing the back of Sirius's hand with his thumb. Outside, a siren wailed briefly and someone shouted obscenities a a traffic warden who'd given them a ticket.

Eventually, Sirius shifted again. "Hurts like hell," he complained, a spark of humour returning to his face. "I guess I won't be doing anything useful for a while." His smile, whilst slightly bitter, was genuine.

"Mm." Remus bit his lip, looking at the opposite wall. At last, he ventured to speak what was on his mind.

"You know that, er, boy you met outside the library at Hogwarts?" He began, voice brittle with tension.

"Yes?" Sirius's voice was low, cautious.

"Well, um, you do know that was me, don't you?"

"Yes, I…" Sirius's brow wrinkled in fierce concentration, "I think I told you at the ministry. I could be wrong," he added hastily as Remus looked at him.

"No, no! You did, I was just wondering whether you remembered." Remus sighed and reluctantly removed his hand from Sirius's. "I- I wouldn't happen to have been the person you fell in love with, would I?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounded unnaturally high and tinged with fear.

Sirius tilted his head on the pillows, so he was looking directly up at the hesitant werewolf. "Yes," he said simply.

There was another long pause, as Remus's mind whirled in a dizzying maelstrom of confusion. Looking down at his hands, folded neatly on his lap, he nodded, refusing to look up.

"I see," he whispered, barely audible above the traffic outside. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What for?" Surprised, Sirius attempted to push himself upright, but the abrupt pain pulled him up short, and he had to sink back down, breath coming a little faster.

"You must truly hate me." Remus looked up at him then, face expressionless. "I caused all that trouble with your parents. I'm, essentially, the one who drove you to side with Voldemort. If it hadn't been for me –"

"Rubbish." Sirius's voice was hard, with no pity in it. "You think you deliberately let that happen? You think either of us had a _choice_ in whether I was attracted to you or not?" He scowled at the werewolf's startled glance. "It was simply a matter of fate, and hey, here's some news for you, _I got over you_, so even if you were the spark that set the whole thing burning, you certainly weren't the reason I joined the Death Eaters." He let out a harsh, barking laugh. "To be honest, I'd forgotten about you, really. Until I was told to go and collect you I only truly remembered my parents' discomfort. I didn't remember that it was you who had initially started the path that led to that.

"But then I saw you, standing there in the lamplight on that blasted freezing night and I started to remember. I started to _think_. I didn't recognise you immediately; you'd grown, after all, and I'd only seen you once or twice, but I have an uncanny knack for remembering faces. And then I realised, you were that young, innocent boy I'd fallen in love with, and even after whatever your life had done to you, you still seemed so…innocent." There was a mad gleam in Sirius's eye, and this time, he managed to push himself upright in bed, leaning over to grab the collar of a startled Remus's robe and pull him closer, until they were nose to nose.

"And do you know the funny thing was, I didn't _want_ you to be innocent," he hissed, tugging Remus still nearer. "I wanted you to be dirty, filthy, broken. I wanted you  to be like _me_, because then, maybe then, I would have stood a chance at discovering and understanding the man who had blossomed from that young boy." Lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl, but Remus wasn't sure whether it was truly one of anger. "Or failing that, _I_ wanted to be the one who took you, made you dirty, brought you down from that glorious pedestal you had placed yourself upon – untouchable."

The hands gripping his collar pulled tighter, surprising Remus with the strength in them despite the injuries Sirius had sustained.

"There, does that make you feel better?" Sirius was saying, his words an angry hiss in the otherwise thrumming silence of the room. "That I wanted to use you, to make you feel as bad as I had?" One hand wrenched itself away from the robe collar to bury itself in brown hair so that Remus's head was pulled still nearer. "But then I started to _know_ you, and I realised I couldn't ruin you. I couldn't destroy your perfection. You believed so strongly in the side of 'Right' and the goodness of people that it was impossible to shatter your belief. How was I to make you turn to our side?"

His head was titled slightly, his face so close that their noses were practically touching and still Remus sat, frozen, unable to comprehend what Sirius was saying.

"But you've done that on your own, haven't you?" Sirius stared at him, grey eyes dark with…what? Anger? "You've abandoned your own side to protect me. You've killed two ministry members and stunned the next minister for magic, all for _me_." He laughed softly, wickedly, and a chill raced up Remus's spine as he wondered where the calm, placid Sirius of not five minutes ago had gone. "You've done the one thing I really thought you wouldn't do. You've betrayed your own side. For me." Said victoriously, viciously, a wash of darkness suffusing his face.

"And I didn't have to do anything."

That snapped Remus out of his dazed trance. With a soft gasp, he wrenched his head backwards out of Sirius's grasp. "I –" he managed, trembling with a large range of emotions. "You were being tortured, I _saved _you."

"Yes, you did." Sirius's voice was low, crooning, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I just didn't expect it of you, Remus." He smiled, lips peeling back from his teeth in a grin that was feral. "I thought I had found the most perfect person in the world – someone it would be impossible to corrupt. But I was wrong. You're not perfect, are you? And now you have nowhere to go except back to Voldemort. You're your own worst enemy."

"Shut up," Remus hissed, striding angrily back to the bed. "You have no right to say that. _No right_. I saved your life, Black, that was an act of mercy, not of wickedness."

"Mercy?" Sirius eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head back, laughing. "Yes, I suppose it was. But Remus, Remus, you don't understand: you disillusioned me. I thought you were wholly good, and now I discover there is a streak of untamed violence in you. I thought," he continued, eyes still closed, "that you would never fall. I thought I would have one thing in my life that was untainted. But you're dark as well, aren't you?"

"_Shut up_!" Remus yanked the duvet off of Sirius, dragging the injured man to his knees on the bed. "You don't know what you're talking about!" His hands closed around Sirius's neck, not choking, just warning, and it was clear the wolf was in his movements.

Sirius regarded him from under lowered lashes, his expression unreadable. "Go on, Remus." His eyes blazed with a unholy light as he stared up at the werewolf, taunting.

Remus shuddered, able to feel the flex of tendons and the vibration of vocal cords under his hand.

"Go on," Sirius repeated, closing his eyes again. "I know you want to. Hit me, choke me…it'll only prove my point."

And he was right, Remus realised. If he did that, it _would_ prove that Sirius had a valid point.

Slowly, carefully, he released the grip of one hand on the slender neck. Equally carefully, he allowed his fingertips to lightly brush Sirius's cheek, savouring the surprised noise he was able to wring from between parted lips. The other hand slid down, resting against the pale chest half covered with bandages, and Remus noticed that he had left bruises on Sirius's throat – fingerprints that were a silent testimony to the violence that had nearly happened.

Sirius remained utterly still, his head half tilted back, knees folded under him on the bed. His black hair was a tousled mess and – Remus noticed for the first time – he was wearing little besides the faded, unbuttoned shirt he had had on under his robe and that Remus had put back on him earlier to keep him warm.

"You see?" Sirius's voice was barely more than a throaty whisper as he opened his eyes to look up at Remus. "The violence and the darkness are there." He let out a small sigh as Remus lightly trailed one finger over his collarbone. "And all that remains is for you to embrace it." His hands reached up, almost as though in supplication, and Remus caught them, trapping them with his own. Turning one to face palm inwards, he pressed a kiss to the soft skin of a wrist, and saw Sirius smile, eyes cold beneath thick lashes.

"You should really join us," a low murmur, nothing more, as Sirius knee-walked closer, almost as though he was being pulled. "You would be perfect…the most perfect."

"Perfect," Remus echoed, dropping Sirius's hands to run curious fingers up smooth, pale thighs.

"Mm." More of a moan than an agreement, and the Death Eater was moving still nearer, until, suddenly, shockingly, he was straddling Remus's lap, looking down at him out of amused eyes that glittered from behind several strands of ebony hair. "Perfect." One hand, strong and sure, shot out to trace Remus's lips and Sirius pressed closer still, head bowed to meet the curious golden gaze.

The violence had vanished, Remus realised, or it had been transformed. Perhaps it had never existed in the first place, except in his mind. Or maybe he had simply passed some kind of test or displayed some ability. Whatever it was, there appeared to be no more anger – simply an overwhelming, burning _want_ that pooled low in his belly and flickered behind Sirius's veiled gaze.

"You're so amazing," a low, whispered prayer, fervent, hot breath fanning across his face as fingers fluttered over his skin, teasing. "You're so perfect, so dark, so beautiful…" and the words continued to tumble from his lips, even as he cupped Remus's face in shaking hands, tilting it up. "Evil, stunning, my twisted angel."

Remus knew he should be angry. Knew, somewhere at the back of his mind, that the words were insulting – that Sirius was merely dragging him down to his level. But the heat injected into the soft hisses and the way Sirius was leaning nearer all contrived to distract him from the small nagging irritation. He wasn't evil, he knew it, but in Sirius's eyes, he seemed to take on some kind of deification and he revelled in it.

Hot hands swept the length of his body, feeling him through his clothes and even the sight of some blood oozing out through the bandage around Sirius's chest did not alarm Remus as much as it should have. Sirius's lips, delicate and tender as a butterfly's wing were pressing hard against his neck, dragging across his skin, teasing, tasting. Hot breath rushed into his ear as the Death Eater continued to murmur to him, crooning, pleading, worshipping.

"You're gorgeous…" Sirius's breath was coming in pants as he rocked against Remus, who whimpered, helpless. "So gorgeous, so wonderful…think of the darkness, Remus…" Grey eyes glittering with lust; smoke from a gun, the fog of Victorian London – dangerous, _beautiful_.

And he couldn't help it, couldn't help wanting to stop the flow of words if only for a moment. Couldn't help wanting to feel those lips. So he leant forwards, capturing Sirius's mouth with his own, and oh, _oh_, he tasted of blood and smoke and everything wicked and corrupt. And it was a simple step from there to push past Sirius' lips, to grip his hair with both hands, to pull him closer, crush them together as hard as possible, so that he could feel the rapid heartbeat so close to his own. He didn't think, didn't _need_ to think, as Sirius moaned and writhed against him, his body saying what his mouth could not.

_"See what you do to me?"_ He hissed when they parted with a dull smack, still clinging to one another. _"See how you make me lose control_?"

And Sirius simply laughed, throwing his head back even as he was shoved backwards to land on the mattress with a soft thump and then Remus was straddling _him_ and Sirius was squirming and shuddering, his nails raking down the auror's back, catching on the soft material of his robe.

"Off…_off_…" And who was he to disobey that voice? The robe went flying and Sirius was staring up at him hungry and _wanting_ his hands trailing down Remus's chest, luxuriating.

It was so easy in the end – almost too easy. But then, Sirius had always had this uncanny knack of overwhelming his senses and he was doing so now. The werewolf was drowning in his scent, in the movement of his body as he shifted, pleading, begging, moaning beneath him. It made him shudder to think that it was he, and he alone that had brought this wise, depraved creature to this state.

"You see," Sirius was whispering to him, nails raking thin red welts down his back as he shivered, head rolling to one side, "you see what _you_ do to _me_?"

'What you do to me…' 

And suddenly Remus realised that he wasn't the only one who had lost control. He wasn't the only one to have sudden changes in temper. He wasn't the only one to be so utterly confused yet uplifted by this strange inexplicable bond…

Sirius was still writhing beneath him, mouth open, lips glistening as he gasped for air, his eyes shut as he growled low at the back of his throat. Unbidden, Remus leant forwards, kissing the smooth skin of  the pale chest, feeling the soft scratch of bandages beneath his cheek. This was adoration, he thought dizzily as Sirius wrapped his legs around his waist. Holy blasphemy, a thousand contradictions wrapped in a perfect moment.

The darkness glittered at the edge of his vision as the wolf howled in his mind. Sirius pulled him down so that he was sprawled on top oh him, pushing him into the mattress, and he saw how badly the Death Eater wanted to be used.

_/I wanted you to be dirty, filthy, broken. I wanted you  to be like_ _me…/_

And wasn't he being used as well? Even as he smothered Sirius's face with kisses, ravished his open, panting mouth, Remus was aware that something was different…almost wrong. But he ignored it. No time for that now, not with Sirius here beneath him, crying his name and moaning at every shudder and thrust of his body. Not when the two of them were locked together, so right, so _perfect_, so beautiful as two made one that there was nothing else.

They collapsed together, clinging and panting, the air around them humming with the aftermath of what had happened.

Closing his eyes, Remus rested his head on Sirius's chest, listening to the rapid heartbeat begin to return to normal and his breathing gently slow. They were sticky, locked together with sweat and blood and come, and Remus unconsciously inhaled the sharp aroma of all three - a distinctive tang at the back of his throat.

"You know…" Sirius's voice, still hoarse, broke the silence, "of all the outcomes of that conversation, that was the only one I didn't expect."

The werewolf looked up, resting his chin on the muscled body so that he could see into smoky grey eyes. "Perhaps, but then, neither did I."

"Hmm." Sirius rolled his shoulders, easing the stiffness in them, then gasped at the sting of reopened wounds. "I don't think that was the best idea," he admitted, staring at the smeared blood now adorning not only himself but Remus as well.

"No," Remus buried his face again, "probably not."

Because his gaze was hidden, he missed the small, wicked grin that spread across Sirius's face as he wound his fingers through the light brown hair. "You're beautiful," he commented and Remus looked up, startled.

Sirius propped himself up on his elbows, pulling Remus towards him with the barest pressure of two fingers under his chin. "My beautiful dark creature," he murmured, lips no more than a hair's breadth away. "So perfect…" grey eyes, half lidded, glittered at the werewolf, "…but not so pure."

Remus, about to make a scathing retort, opened his mouth, swallowed and shut it again.

"What? No protest?" Sirius ran a hand between them, wiping away some of his own blood. "I would have expected a bout of self-righteousness at the very least."

"I am a dark creature," the werewolf said quietly, his expression grave, "I cannot argue with that." He sighed and looked away.

"I was only teasing," Sirius said quietly, forcing him to look at him. "You are perfect, and you are pure, even after people like me have tried to taint you."

"You're wrong," said again, this time with conviction. "I'm neither, any more." Remus looked up at Sirius and smiled, and the startled Death Eater noted something new, gleaming and cold about him that hadn't been there before. "I'm simply yours." He swallowed and grasped Sirius's hand. "And if that means joining Voldemort…I'll do it."

To Be Continued… 

**CB**: Wow, that was…er…interesting. Confused yet? Heh, all will be explained. Two more chapters to go…


	11. Chapter Eleven

**CB:** _Just a quick note_. I was touched by how many of you pointed out how OOC Sirius was in the last chapter. Because I'm weird that had me sitting there feeling all loved because people took the time to actually _read _the detail. Don't worry my darlings, he's deliberately OOC – and all will be explained.

'To say that he was evil would be an exaggeration, 

_To say that he was simply misguided would be insufficient._

_Perhaps it is best to state that he was simply human.'_

- **Anne Calling 'The Crying Game'**

"And if that means joining Voldemort…I'll do it."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Remus regretted them.

"You'd do that?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking sceptical.

"No…yes…oh I don't know." Frustrated the werewolf buried his face in his hands, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. "I don't know why I said that," he confessed in a muffled voice, "it's not what I meant at all."

"Really?" Sirius sat up, gently prising the hands away from the auror's face. Grasping them in his, he looked thoughtfully at the bowed head. "You wouldn't join Voldemort?"

A sigh escaped Remus's lips. "I…don't _want_ to join Voldemort," he confessed slowly.

"And why not?" Sirius's voice had turned icy, his grip tightening on the hands he was holding. Surprised, Remus looked up at him, to see his face set into a stony mask. "Why wouldn't you want to join Voldemort?"

"Because he's evil!" Remus wrenched his hands away and moved off the bed in one swift movement. Pacing the room, he battled with a surge of irritation and anger. "I admit, we aurors aren't especially nice – I hadn't realised that before, but after I saw the way you were treated, I did. However, I can't simply stand by and agree that Voldemort is _good_; that would be going against every instinct in my body and the teachings of my entire life."

"You're a fool." Sirius swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up as well, wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs. "He's not evil, and people like you just can't see that!"

"What in all HELLS do you mean by 'people like you'?" Remus swung around to face Sirius, his arms folded. "People who value human life, is that who you mean?"

"Oh, that's rich, coming from someone who isn't even _human_."

Remus gasped, feeling as though an icy bucket of water had been dumped on him. "How…how _dare_ you!" Before even he could comprehend it, his fist had swung around and connected with the side of Sirius's face. There was the dull smack of connection and Sirius staggered back a couple of steps, cupping his jaw with one hand, eyes wide in his suddenly pale face.

"Fuck you, Black. I was right all along. You're nothing but an evil, twisted…" Remus raged, striding across the room to loom over the Death Eater, who had slid to the floor next to the bed, sitting in a dazed heap.

"…Arrogant, cruel, bitter, wicked…"

"Remus." The quiet sound of Sirius's voice interrupted the Auror in mid sentence and he paused, gasping for breath, his fists still curled as he stared down at the bowed, dark-haired head.

"What?" He spat at last, when no other words seemed forthcoming.

"I'm…I'm sorry." Barely a whisper, and still Sirius refused to look up, "I didn't mean what I said. You're the most humane person I know. You're kind and good and clever and…" The sound of a shaky breath echoed around the otherwise quiet room. "And _everything_, and I'm so sorry I said that."

"Then why did you say it?"

"I…" Sirius paused, lost for words as he continued to stare at the ground. "I don't _know_, alright? The words just sort of appeared."

The anger faded slightly and Remus bit his lip. "That's not really a good explanation, Sirius," he muttered, crouching down in front of the Death Eater.

"Look, I…" Sirius drew another shaking breath. "I think something's happening to me…something…" He closed his eyes, pressing knuckled fists to his forehead. "I don't know," he whispered eventually, repeating himself – this time with a hint of fear. "I don't know. I'm…I'm not in control – I can feel things…something, at the back of my mind…it's…making suggestions to me." He swallowed hard, and looked up, grey eyes wide in his face. "And it'll surge when…something distracts me and it'll make me act…" He broke off and looked away, but not before Remus caught a glimpse of something bordering on panic in the Death Eater's expression.

"When did this start to happen?" Remus refused to crouch down next to Sirius, in case this was another ploy.

"I – I don't know…wait, yes I do." Sirius bit his lip. "After…after I was in _there_. After they hurt me for the first time, and its been getting stronger since."

"Since James took you to the ministry?"

"Yes."

Remus frowned, his mind already racing. "And you say it's something at the back of your mind…something that's compelling you – and, it seems, me – to say and act differently."

"Yes." Again, the barest of whispers.

'_At the back of your mind…_' In his mind, Remus felt the wolf stir slightly, shifting uneasily as it covered the spell, which had been linking him to Sirius.

_/Could be that his mind's been destroyed, / _it suggested dubiously, at length.

'_I doubt it,'_ Remus replied absently, still staring hard at Sirius, who was in turn staring hard at the floor. '_If it was his mind that the ministry had destroyed, I doubt he'd be able to string a coherent sentence together. No, it's got to be someth–'_ he stopped, a sudden, horrible, thought striking him.

"Sirius…"

"What?" Sirius continued to stare at the floor, refusing to look up.

"Who…" Remus cleared his throat, swallowed, and tried again. "Who cast the spell to help you keep track of me?" He waited, heart thumping painfully in his chest.

"Voldemort." Sirius _did_ look up at him now, his expression puzzled. "Why? What has _that_ got to do with…this?"

Remus stared at him, his hands shaking. "Voldemort placed the spell to link us together. You're _sure_?"

"Yes, of course."

"Oh…oh god…" Almost without realising it, the auror's knees buckled and he slumped to the floor, pale and visibly shaken.

"_Why?_" Sirius shifted impatiently, his expression becoming irritable.

"Voldemort…" Remus croaked, "…Voldemort cast the spell. This spell allows you to see where I am – to read my mind. It works both ways, as we discovered, we can…communicate." He swallowed, licked his lips and continued: "However, a link to the caster of the spell will remain as long as the spell itself is still _active_. Normally, this means a slight 'residue' – nothing more, but in a spell such as this, I'm willing to bet it's an exceptionally strong bond. When you got tortured, your mental control slipped and, without either you or Voldemort realising it, his essence and influence became magnified by the spell. The manipulation in your head by the ministry probably…probably triggered it."

"You're telling me," Sirius whispered, going pale, " that Voldemort is _controlling_ me?"

"Not exactly. Rather, his emotions, reactions and personality are slowly filtering into you through the mental gateway this spell has created. You're…you're absorbing his essence." Remus stared at Sirius, a sudden, horrible thought occurring to him. "If this is the case…it's likely that it's actually Voldemort _himself_ that is entering you. You're becoming, sort of, one…"

"What?" Sirius had turned so pale that his skin seemed translucent. His eyes flashed with panic. "So…so that's why I've been acting differently? His personality is in my head?" His voice was a harsh, frightened whisper. "No…that's not…that's not possible…"

"Well, I'm not an expert," Remus said softly, hoping to alleviate the terror he could see clearly written on the Death Eater's face. "I could be mistaken."

"No…no, you're not." Sirius licked his lips, fear welling up in his eyes. "When we…when I…" he gestured vaguely, and Remus nodded, understanding. "I called you…"

_'Evil…stunning…my twisted angel…_'

The words hung between them, and Remus recalled the flash of discomfort he'd felt momentarily. He'd thought they sounded odd, but he hadn't been able to think why, and then Sirius had distracted him.

"Yes," he said gently, in the end, changing the subject. "Maybe…maybe we should go and…and talk to him about this."

"What, Voldemort? Are you _crazy_?" Sirius stared at him, his mouth hanging open. "He'd kill me for sure!"

"Not if he didn't know whether it would have repercussions on him," Remus pointed out. "Maybe we should go back and –"

"No!" Sirius scrambled to his feet, eyes wild. "We can't! He'll kill you; I know it! He wants you for something and he won't bother to stop and think about how good a Death Eater I've been before he uses me as bait to get at you!"

"What _are_ you talking about?" Remus stared at him, half wondering whether Sirius's mind wasn't affected after all.

"Remember…" Sirius was still staring at him, his whole body tensed as though he was about to run, "…Remember, that's why I had to get you in the first place." He shuddered and closed his eyes. "I don't know what he wants, but I thought…I thought after you escaped, that at least you were safe from Him."

Remus bit his lips and hesitantly reached out to touch Sirius' arm. "But, what choice do we have?" He asked gently. "We need to know. And if Voldemort is infecting you then something has to be done. His personality and power are so strong, that if we don't do something, your mind will be eclipsed." His fingers tightened briefly and Sirius opened his eyes, looking at him.

"I...I know," he admitted in a hoarse whisper, "but I'm scared. I don't want you to get hurt…I don't want _me_ to get hurt – not again. I don't want to go back."

Remus smiled encouragingly at him, but his face held determination. "I know," he said gently, "but we don't have a choice."

AaAaAaAa

"Well, if it isn't the two canines." Snape sneered and folded his arms, his expression dripping disgust. "And what brings you both back here. Get bored of…other hospitality?"

Sirius snarled, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he lunged towards the sallow skinned man, grey eyes not quite sane.

"Sirius!" Remus leapt forward, planting himself between the two Death Eaters with remarkable speed. "Stop it! Both of you!" When Sirius ignored him, trying to reach over his shoulder and throttle Snape, he smacked the other man hard on the shoulder, earning a pained yelp in his ear for his trouble.

The three of them were standing in the castle courtyard, Sirius and Remus having journeyed back by train. The sun was shining down, the air was remarkably warm for the time of year and if you strained your hearing, it was possible to catch the murmur of life coming from inside the castle. A few weeds poked out from between the grey flagstones under their feet and dirt scraped against soles as all three struggled together. A small breeze lifted the hair away from Sirius's face, exposing the livid bruise that had bloomed down one side of his face and Snape, unexpectedly, hissed in something that sounded remarkably like sympathy.

"Good God, Black, what happened to _you_?"

"What do you think?" Sirius snapped, stepping back and throwing his hands up in disgust as Remus scowled, infuriated, at him. "The ministry pulled a raid and took me with them for a little chat." He spat on the ground in disgust, as though in reaction to the very memory of James, Crouch and Fudge. "Lupin's friend had been tracking us from Hogsmeade – found us nice and vulnerable on a hill, captured me and carted me off." He turned hard grey eyes on Snape. "Why, what's it to you, anyway?"

"Curious," came the flat reply.

"And here I thought you didn't have a human emotion in your body."

"Takes one to know one, Black."

"Tosser."

Snape sneered again, black eyes cold. "You're not even worth the trouble of answering that."

Sirius snarled, fingers itching for a wand, and shifted from foot to foot as he restrained the urge to punch Snape on his hooked nose.

"As lovely as it has been to chat with you," Remus said softly, intervening again before either man _could_ cause grievous bodily harm, "we must see Voldemort."

Snape winced at the blatant use of the Dark Lord's name, but maintained his vicious expression nonetheless. "You _have_ been out of touch," he commented coldly, smiling as Sirius growled at the back of his throat. "He has decided to visit the Death Eater camp further north, apparently there was a little…trouble. He won't return until late this evening, or, indeed, tomorrow."

"You're lying!" Sirius glared at Snape, but a hint of fear had crept back into his eyes.

"Why on earth would I lie, Black?" Snape drew himself up to his full height and stared down his nose at Sirius. "Clearly whatever brain you had was lost when you went for your little stay at the ministry."

"Fuck yo –"

"ENOUGH!" Remus's voice echoed around the courtyard, bouncing of the grey walls as he stood rigidly between the two men, his fists clenched. Amber eyes sparking furiously, he pointed an accusing finger at Snape. "You, you're going to help us." He swung around and faced Sirius, still looking angry. "And _you_ are going to keep quiet unless you can say two words without provoking him!"

Sirius stared at him, shock written across his face, before he swallowed and nodded. "Fine. I will if he does."

"You're both so childish," the Auror muttered under his breath, shoving past Snape and stalking up the steps of the castle, pausing only to make sure both men were following him.

"Right," he said as soon as they were all standing in the entrance hall, "Sirius, I want you to tell this man exactly what's happening to you." He turned his gaze on Snape, who actually contrived to look uncomfortable. "Then you are going to help us. I don't want any sarcastic comments or sniping, I just want you to _do_ something. I've heard about you – you're the one who will probably have the answer to our problem, since you're so…" he paused, his face twisting slightly, "…clever."

Sirius folded his arms; a defiant looks crossing his face. "Why should I tell him?" He snarled, shooting Snape a poisonous look.

"Because if you don't," Remus hissed quietly, "in less than twenty four hours there won't even be enough of your personality left to regret _not_ telling him." He placed one hand comfortingly on Sirius's shoulder. "You've got to understand that."

Sirius glanced coldly at him and shrugged the arm off. "Alright, but if he so much as smirks, I'm going to hex him into the next century," he promised icily, the darker side of his personality gaining the upper hand momentarily.

Snape rolled his eyes, but didn't comment, privately wondering what on earth they were both rambling about.

"Just get on with it, Sirius."

AaAaAaAa

/_Sirius is…becoming Voldemort, in a way…_/

Snape finished the letter and attached it to the leg of the owl.

_/I'm absorbing the Dark Lord's personality – his power…_/

Going to the window, the undercover Auror opened it and picked up the owl.

/_If we don't do something soon, I think it's possible that his own personality will be overpowered and he'll essentially be Voldemort walking around in a new body…_/

Launching the owl out of the window, Snape remained standing there for a moment, watching it wing away to the south.

/_Interesting…I have heard of this phenomenon only once before. I believe in that case the caster and the subject were forced to endure a ritual expulsion. This involved a battle of wills between the two of them, until the subject forced the alien influence out of his mind and body. It's difficult, however. Very difficult. If one personality is more dominant, the battle can, essentially, be lost, and a full role reversal can occur – swamping one of the minds utterly and leaving nothing behind. I will contact our lord as quickly as possible, Black, and see if we can perform the expulsion ceremony at sunrise tomorrow. Until then, both you and our lord are vulnerable to magical attacks_…/

Turning away from the window, Snape sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling drained. It had been hard talking to someone he disliked so utterly with such patience, and Lupin hadn't helped, either. Constantly touching Black, as though in reassurance. He frowned and picked up the draft of the letter he had just sent, intending to burn it in the fire.

/_Albus,_

_Muster as many Aurors as possible to attack the castle tonight. Voldemort had been weakened sufficiently that there is a chance we could well defeat him. There is, however, a catch. You must also destroy the Death Eater Sirius Black, as he and the Dark Lord's mind and power are slowly becoming one._

_I have already contacted Voldemort, he will be returning early this evening to prepare for the battle of wills that will reverse the vulnerability. This reversal is to take place tomorrow at dawn._

_You must hurry._

_I would ask why Lupin is back here as well, but from his attitude towards Black, it appears evident. This is yet another cause for concern. I managed to gather some information as to why Voldemort needs the werewolf, and from my findings, have deduced that it is for two purposes: to gather information as to our forces, and to use his blood in an unnamed ritual that will help him achieve an insurmountable magical force around the castle. Lupin's blood is immortal, and it is stupid of me not to have realised sooner how powerful a barrier erected using immortal blood will be._

_He must be stopped._

Severus. / 

Casting the letter into the fire, Snape watched as it blackened into a fine ash, before he turned and strode from the room, leaving nothing behind him.

AaAaAaAa

Remus lay with his head pillowed on Sirius's chest, fingers idly wound in the thick black hair.

They'd both returned to the familiar room in the castle, unable to face anyone. Sirius, in particular, was especially nervous and jumpy, his mood veering from happy and content to angry and depressed and back again in moments. Remus had curled up next to him on the bed, hoping to calm him slightly. The sun streamed in through the window, catching dust particles and making the spark like fairy dust and the room was pleasantly warm.

Sighing, the werewolf decided now would be the best time to broach a subject that had been nagging him since the icy conversation with Snape.

"You know," he said softly, "once you've banished Voldemort's influence from your mind…you don't have to stay here."

"Don't I?" Sirius's voice was husky and low as he stared at the ceiling, absent-mindedly stroking the top of the auror's head. "Where would I go? The ministry won't want me, and I'd be damned if I went anywhere near them anyway!" His body tensed and Remus, aware of this, soothingly rubbed his shoulder. "Being a Death Eater has been my whole purpose in life," Sirius said eventually, his voice slightly sad. "First it was a way to rebel, then it was simply a Way."

"But you don't like it…"

"I don't _dis_like it," Sirius murmured. "I have some friends here, to be honest Voldemort doesn't demand much – just unquestioning loyalty and the willingness to do what he asks." He smiled, still looking at the ceiling. "I suppose the only truly wrong thing about it is having to wear a mask."

"You still don't think he's evil?" Remus asked, propping himself up to look at Sirius.

"Oh, I think he is. But like I told you – what can you honestly say is _good_?"

There was a long pause as Remus studied Sirius, from his startlingly calm grey eyes to the way he held his gaze without flinching. "What…" he whispered finally, unsure how to phrase the question, "What made you become a Death Eater? Really?"

"That's a difficult question." Sirius closed his eyes, his expression turning grave. "In what way do you mean?"

Remus shrugged. "In any way. What made all of…" he waved a hand vaguely, "…this, worth it?"

"Well, I suppose it was partly my parents," Sirius murmured. "You know about them – how they…how we, didn't get on."

"Yes."

"But they weren't entirely to blame. Not really." Sirius paused and opened his eyes, looking up at Remus. "Are you sure you want to know this? You're probably not going to like it."

"I'm sure."

"Well, after I'd left school, I wandered around for a while. I didn't want to go home and I didn't have a proper job because I couldn't seem to stay in one place for more than a month. Well, when I was in France, Calais, actually, I was approached by a…a man. He was handsome, intelligent and considerate. He seemed to believe in the idea that pure-blooded families were stronger than mixed and that the wizarding world should revert to a mediaeval style of hierarchy so it could be utterly cleansed and everyone could benefit from it. Well, as you can imagine, I thought this was a load of bollocks, and I told him so.

"But he fascinated me, so I carried on talking to him, started to get to know and understand him a bit better until finally we…we became friends, I suppose. It turned out he came from England too – not far from where I grew up, in fact – and he intended to return there three days later. 'Come with me,' he said on the last day, 'come and see what I was talking about.'"

"Well, since I hadn't been back to England for almost three years, I figured it was worth a shot – besides, where else did I have to go? So I went with him, and when I came back, I _did_ see how stifling and prejudice the society had become in the wizarding world. So I agreed to join his cause – it seemed like the right thing to do. Besides. He was a good friend…often a little bit haunted by his own demons, I think, but a good friend nonetheless."

"What was his name?" Remus murmured, soothingly combing his fingers through Sirius's hair.

"His name?" Sirius let out a harsh laugh, closing his eyes again. "His name was Tom Riddle."

"_Voldemort_?" Remus's hands flew away from Sirius and he sat bolt upright, shocked. "You were friends with _Voldemort_?"

"You wanted to know." Sirius looked at him, his expression guarded. "I warned you, and that's not all of it."

"What…" Remus trailed off, not sure if he wanted to know.

"When I returned to England and saw the situation, like I said, I joined his cause. That was when my parents disowned me. Back then, Tom wasn't evil – not really – I think he simply sincerely believed that his way was the right way, kind of a religious fervour, if you like. Anyway, I joined his sect and was surprised to see how many of the Death Eaters genuinely seemed to fear him. To me, he simply seemed human. Handsome, a little arrogant, occasionally lost his temper – but didn't we all? I couldn't understand it.

"It was only later that he told me he had actually been looking for me in Calais, or, to be more specific, someone that was like me. He needed a pure-blooded wizard who was skilled in magic and capable of obeying his orders directly. In other words, he needed someone to be his right hand man, advisor, grand vizier, whatever you want to call it. But it wasn't only that, not by a long way. I think, at that time at least, he also genuinely needed a _friend_, someone who understood at least some of his pain."

Sirius took a deep breath and stared past Remus, unable to meet his eyes. "He needed me," he said.

"He…" The auror swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared in disbelief. "He…you…"

Sirius smiled bitterly. "He…I…" he mimicked, but it was only gentle teasing. "Yes, Tom and myself. We were…close, that's all you need to know. But we grew apart, a long way, opposite ends, you might say." Another smile, this time sad. "I was a fool, to begin with – I thought myself in love. He never was, his only love was his precious crusade, and I was simply a means to an end. Keep me satisfied and he had a loyal pet to pander to his every need."

"You were lovers?" Remus fought to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"No. Perhaps I was, but he certainly wasn't. I don't think he's capable of love, especially not now. Now his passion has destroyed him, whereas mine…well, at least mine passed, eventually."

"And what about now?" Now Remus _couldn't_ keep the jealousy out of his voice, and Sirius glanced at him, surprised and smiling.

"Now?" One hand lazily reached up to tug Remus down so that he was nose-to-nose with the Death Eater. "Ah, now," Sirius murmured, his lips brushing Remus's with every move of his mouth, "I think I _do_ have a lover, and I think my feelings this time are reciprocated." He smiled and leant forwards to kiss the Auror.

When they parted, Remus settled back down next to Sirius, his mind spinning in a confusing jumble of thoughts. So, that was the reason for the other man's loyalty – why he never seemed to question what his Lord told him. The werewolf sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

"I have something I want to give you," Sirius murmured suddenly, rolling away and sitting up. Striding across the room, he flung open the wardrobe doors and rummaged around in the furniture's depths, looking for something. A moment later, he let out a small grunt of satisfaction and held a small, leather bound book aloft.

"What's that?" Remus sat up as well, frowning at the book. It took him a moment to recognise it, and when he did, he bit his lip, hoping Sirius wouldn't realise he'd already seen it once before.

"I'll explain." Coming back to the bed, Sirius sank down on the edge and handed it to the Auror. "It's my diary," he said quietly, a soft look creeping into his eyes as he stared at the book. "It's a record of my life. Everywhere I've ever been, who I've spoken to – even my thoughts on all of…" he waved a hand expressively, "…this. This book contains _everything_. Everything about me. It's part of my life." He shrugged. "It _is_ my life, and I want you to have it."

"W-what?" Remus looked up, startled.

"I want you to have it," Sirius repeated sincerely. "Not only because," he drew a deep breath, "I might not survive this battle of wills thing tomorrow, but because…" He swallowed, and looked down at his hands, which had curled into tense fists. "But because _you_ are my life now," he said softly – barely audible despite the ringing silence of the room, "and I don't need this book to remind me of what I've been and what I've become."

"Sirius…" Remus choked, swallowed and tried again. "I – I can't accept this. It's _yours_, not mine."

"No. It's not." The Death Eater gently placed the book on Remus's lap, still refusing to meet his gaze. "It's yours now. You have the right to know everything about me, not only because I've been your captor, then you captive, but because – because I think somewhere, deep down, you've changed me. I'm not as arrogant as I used to be, I think. Oh, I admit, I'm still a nasty piece of work, stick around and you'll probably be so irritated that I'll get slapped around the head several times a months, but…I don't know." He frowned and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's like…before I met you, I was just empty inside. I didn't realise it, and I thought life was good, but then you appeared…reappeared…and this warm sort of glow started to fill me." He let out a small bark of laughter. "God, I sound so sentimental."

"No…" Remus smiled and touched the cold leather, part of his shock slowly draining away. "I think…I think I understand." Reaching out, he pushed some of Sirius's hair away from his face, and gripped his chin, forcing him to look at him. "I think what _you've_ taught _me_," he murmured, "is that there _isn't_ any 'good' and 'evil' – just human beings. Because of you, I'm starting to understand that concept." His fingertips lightly brushed Sirius's cheek and he felt a small spark of pleasure as the Death Eater unconsciously turned his head into the caress.

"So, we both learnt something, then." Sirius smiled and leant closer.

"Yes, I think we did."

AaAaAaAa

It was dark by the time Sirius finally stirred, opening his eyes.

Remus was still curled up next to him, a warm, reassuring weight against his side. His light hair was spread over the pillow and a small frown marred his forehead. One arm was outstretched and Sirius smiled as the fingers twitched as the werewolf dreamt.

Slowly, carefully, he rolled away from Remus, off the bed, and stood up. Remus's only reaction was to move unconsciously into the warm hollow in the mattress that Sirius had just vacated. Smiling, the Death Eater watched him for a moment. They'd talked, long into the day and most of the evening, about anything, everything. Most importantly, however, it had felt like they were finally communicating properly; and the soft touches Remus had kept bestowing on him… he grinned.

Moving quietly, he picked up the diary and crept over to the window, grabbing a quill and some ink as he passed the small oak desk. Settling himself in the window seat, he bit his lip, staring out of the glass for a moment before turning his attention back to the diary.

_/Tuesday, October 12th_

_This will be my final entry, one way or another, and really, its only purpose is to clarify a couple of things – particularly for you, Remus, when you read this._

_Firstly: I love you. I fell in lust with you during that brief time at Hogwarts, and fell in _love_ with you when I began to finally understand who and what you were. I haven't really told you this properly, I don't think; this is because I don't know what will happen tomorrow. I may be able to force Voldemort out of my head, then again, I may not, it's all going to depend on my strength. Admittedly, I should really have told you my feelings in case anything _does_ happen – but I want you to have some kind of life after all this is over and done with and I don't want you dragging around a load of emotional baggage if I'm not there to help you start that new life._

_Secondly: I told you about how I became a Death Eater, you understood how I became attached to Tom, but I didn't tell you that whilst I didn't regret it at the time, I do now. I regret it because you have saved me. Oh, I don't think I'll ever regret believing in a cause – it's only human to – but I do regret not questioning things a little more, perhaps being slightly less impulsive. You've taught me that, in our brief (too brief) time together._

_Lastly, I just wanted to say to you that, no matter what happens, be happy. Be happy if I'm not there, be happy if I am; enjoy life, Remus, it's about time you did, and don't let the Ministry or Dumbledore, or that friend of yours push you around any more. Think of yourself for once._

_I love you, Remus Lupin. Don't forget it, but learn to live with it and without me, if the worst happens._

_You have saved me, more than you could ever know._

_Truly, yours forever, _

Sirius Orion Black. / 

Carefully, Sirius opened the front of the book and wrote something on the front page, before he shut the diary and placed it gently on the window sill, where he knew Remus would find it tomorrow morning.

From somewhere far away in the castle, a crash echoed, and Sirius rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he shot a glance at Remus to make sure he hadn't been woken up. As the echoes died away, he heard shouting coming from what sounded like the entrance hall, followed by a loud shriek and another crash, one that sounded much closer than the last.

"W-what's going on?" Remus was sitting up in the bed, blinking muzzily as he stifled a yawn. "Sirius? What's all the noise?"

"Not sure." The Death Eater frowned as he thought he heard a loud '_crucio_' from somewhere downstairs, followed by a shriek of pain. Shaking his head, he wondered briefly if he'd imagined it, but Remus had leapt to his feet and flung open the door.

"Something's happening! I think the castle's being attacked!"

Sirius… 

"Wha –?" the Death Eater stopped halfway across the room and clutched his skull, as the inside of his head lit up with bright pain.

Sirius, they have come for us… 

Sirius staggered, then fell to his knees. "My…my lord?"

We have been betrayed. Come to me, we must perform the ritual quickly so that I can annihilate these invaders.

Remus was back at Sirius's side in a instant, gripping his arm painfully as he hauled him to his feet. "What is it? What's going on?" His voice was higher than usual and tinged with panic as the sound of fighting filtered up to the room.

"We're…the castle…" Sirius managed, before pointing down. "The ministry, they've come to kill Voldemort."

"_What_?" Remus bit his lip, clearly struggling with his emotions, undecided over which side was possibly in the right.

_They have come to kill US_… Voldemort amended in his head, _because you and I are as one, at the moment. They destroy you, they destroy me and vice versa. _

"Right." Sirius surprised even himself by shoving Remus away and standing upright, just as the door at the far end of the corridor flew open and the sound of footsteps filled the air. "Remus, I want you to take this," he darted back across the room and shoved the diary into Remus's hands, "and I want you to get out of here. The ministry won't take kindly to you being here, and I'm not going to risk you getting hurt."

"I can fight my own battles!"

Sirius's eyes softened for a moment. "I know, but I don't want to have to worry about you, so go."

"I'm not leaving here without you!"

The footsteps were coming closer.

Sirius leant towards Remus, dragging him into a hard, fierce kiss. "If I have anything to say about it," he hissed, "you won't be. I'll catch you up, but you _must_ get out of here. Now, someone's coming down that corridor and I'll be damned if I let them take you. We're linked; I'll tell you how to get out of here through that link so that you can hide in the forest at the back of this place. On the count of three, we're going to burst out of here and stupefy whoever it is. When that happens, I want you to run as fast as you can down the corridor. Have you got that?"

"Yes." Remus gripped Sirius's hand for a moment. "Stay safe, Black, or I'm never going to bloody forgive you."

Sirius shot him a smile. "Hey, don't worry about me. Now, on the count of three. One…two…"

The footsteps paused outside of their door.

"_Three_!"

Remus burst from the room and hit the Auror with a stunning charm. Not even waiting to see who it was, he hurtled down the corridor and flung open the door at the far end. Pelting down the stairs, he skidded at the bottom and nearly fell over a body – stunned or dead, he didn't know which – and vaulted over it.

_Which…which way now_? He asked, through the link.

_You in the main hall_?" Sirius's voice was distant, distracted.

Yes.

Right, go right. Follow the corridor to the end.

Obeying the direction unquestioningly, Remus flew down the new passage, pausing only to knock an oncoming Auror out of the way. Wrenching open the door, he burst out into the cold night air.

_I'm outside, now where_?

_Go straight on down the garden path, when you get to the end, go through the gate. Directly in front of you will be the forest_. Sirius's mind voice was fierce. _Hide in there, no one will see you_.

_Path…path…_Remus felt like his feet were hardly touching the ground as he ran down the garden opened the gate and dived into the inky trees beyond. His breath rasped in his throat and his blood pounded in his ears as he struggled through the dense undergrowth, still clutching Sirius's diary tightly in one hand. Pushing aside some brambles, he winced as the thorns scraped his palms and gasped as he tripped over a tree root.

_I'm deep in the forest…_he mind-murmured to Sirius, and felt a mental warmth.

Good, I'm going to have to break the link now, Remus. See you on the other side.

Be…be careful.

_No worries._ Sirius's voice resounded with forced cheerfulness.

And then the link was gone.

Remus staggered, feeling suddenly empty, and he tripped again, falling onto his hands and knees with a soft cry of alarm. The diary, which he had been holding so carefully, flew out of his hands at the impact, and landed a few feet away, on a patch of mud.

Grumbling, Remus pushed himself upright again, and looked down for the diary…

…Which was rapidly sinking into the 'mud'.

"No! Oh NO!" Scrambling forwards, he flung himself at the diary, but his scrabbling finger missed it by centimetres as it sank with a sullen 'glub' and he had to throw himself backwards as he felt his own feet start to disappear as well.

"Damn," he cursed, feeling tears of frustration stinging the back of his eyes. "_Damn_."

AaAaAaAa

Sirius dodged the jet of gold light that span from the end of the Auror's wand, and retaliated with his own stunning spell. His opponent dropped like a stone, and the Death Eater paused, panting in the sudden, abrupt silence.

Where are you, my lord? 

_The great hall_. The reply was icy, focused, angry. _I need you here NOW, Sirius_.

Nodding, half to himself, Sirius fled down the nearby passage as the sound of more Aurors approaching warned him. Ducking inside the great hall, he felt another irrational surge of anger as he slammed the huge door closed, locking it as best he could.

"I am here, my lord," he said into the inky darkness that now enclosed the room.

"Good." Voldemort strode from the shadows, one hand outstretched. "Give me your hand, Sirius, we must do this quickly."

A loud bang on the door indicated that the Aurors had discovered it was locked.

"You know what to do?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes." Taking a deep breath, Sirius tried to ignore the sting in his shoulder where he had been unfortunate enough to be hit with a curse. He tried to soothe the bubbling rage that seethed and twisted at the back of his mind – now awoken permanently by the attack of the Aurors – and he tried to block out the worry he felt for Remus. Instead, he concentrated on emptying his mind utterly, preparing himself for the mental struggle that was about to begin.

The force of Voldemort's mind slammed into him without warning, and he gasped, knees buckling as a wave of darkness washed over him, blinding him and stealing his breath. As though from far away, he could hear someone screaming, and realised vaguely that it was himself. He could also hear the renewed attacks on the hall door and Voldemort's voice telling him to push back against the force of will.

With an almighty effort, he gritted his teeth and _pushed_, straining as hard as he could, trying to remember light, and joy, and why he hated eggs and how it had always amused him how Peter chewed his fingers when reading, and how the colour of Remus's hair made him think of dark honey…he tried to remember that he disliked Francis Bacon, but idolised Shakespeare; that he despised any domestic activities, but loved to work on his bike…

He heard the halls doors crash open and lost his concentration.

With a curse, he felt Voldemort break the mind contact and he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to dispel the shadows that lingered at the edge of his vision.

Aurors were pouring into the hall, their wands at the ready and he could sense the gathering power as they each mentally prepared themselves for a grim battle.

The ritual hadn't worked…

Sirius sagged in defeat as he felt the almost familiar black rage begin to pour through him. Everything had been in vain and he, Sirius Black, was about to be killed. Next to him, he felt Voldemort shift and knew without looking that he was reaching for his wand. Almost as though he was being directed, Sirius felt himself reach for his own as well, as the Aurors continued to advance, the beginnings of spells on their lips.

"Let's go down fighting, Black." Said softly, for his ears alone, and Sirius, surprised, turned to look at Voldemort, who – there was no other word for it – grinned at him.

"If that's what you want, my lord."

"It's not what I want, it's what I'd like." Voldemort raised his wand, and Sirius noted with some satisfaction that the Aurors stopped dead in their tracks, apprehension written plainly across their features.

"Well, since you asked…" Sirius raised his wand as well, throwing his shoulders back. Shooting a quick glance at Voldemort, he noted, with some surprise, that the other man's eyes had slowly shifted from red to a cool, calculated, grey.

"My lord, your eyes," he murmured, drawing breath to shriek the killing curse.

"Yours too, it would appear." Voldemort also took a deep breath.

Sirius felt a fierce, desperate grin pull his lips back as the rage and dark magic in his mind swept to the surface. Flinging his head back, he let out a howl to the ceiling, his eyes gleaming red in the light from the doorway. Opening his mouth wide, he screamed at the top of his lungs:

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

AaAaAaAa

_AVADA KEDAVRA_!

Remus felt the magic rip through his mind like a hurricane, and he collapsed to his knees, awed by the power of the curse. At the back of his mind, the link flared in a rush of gold fire, pouring through his mind, swamping him, wrapping him up in a rushing, roaring crash of light, and flickers of thoughts and sights. He soared high over the castle for a moment as the golden cloud suffocated his body, and he heard a single, pure voice cry out:

"REMUS!"

And then the pull back was too strong to resist and he was sucked backwards, until darkness slammed into his mind, knocking him senseless…

AaAaAaAa

James staggered into the great hall, Dumbledore at his side, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The floor was littered with bodies. Many of the Auror who had entered the hall were now no more than crumpled heaps on the ground. The hangings that had decorated the room were scorched black and falling from their rails. The ceiling was also black, as though from a fire and the windows were cracked and, in some cases, shattered. There was very little left of whatever furniture had been in the room and the grey stone floor was a mass of soot marks.

"My god…"

Dumbledore knelt thoughtfully next to the nearest body, gently touching the cooling flesh. "A great power was unleashed," he said quietly, gently shutting the dead man's eyes. "You felt it – we all did. I must say, however, that I am surprised it managed to come from a mind, or two minds, that were not whole."

"You mean…"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "I mean that Voldemort and Black did this, but I think it cost them a great price. A very great price." He nodded towards the centre of the room, where James could just make out two more shapes crumpled on the floor.

"That's them?"

"Indeed."

The Auror swallowed. "Are they…"

"Indeed." The headmaster peered gravely over the top of his spectacles. "To use a killing curse with such a wide radius requires a great deal of power, more than even Voldemort and Black had combined. Because of this, the curse drained their souls as well – using those for the extra power it needed. So, they killed their enemies, but killed themselves in the process." He smiled sadly. "It is not something I would think is worth the effort."

James nodded and walked forwards hesitantly. "I'm just going to make sure…" he muttered.

The two men were sprawled on the flagstones exactly where they had fallen. Their wands lay a few feet away, where they had either been thrown or rolled when their owners died. Sirius's black robes were partially burnt off, and Voldemort's were ripped.

As James bent nearer, his eyes widened. "My god!" He gasped for the second time in as many minutes.

Voldemort was sprawled awkwardly on his back, but he no longer resembled the Dark lord many had known and feared. Instead, thick, black hair tumbled from his head and across his forehead. His face was entirely human and his narrow but handsome face was relaxed, as though he was simply sleeping.

"Ah." Dumbledore had come over without James realising it.

"Is that even Voldemort?" The Auror was staring at the body with an expression of apprehension.

"Yes, but then again, no." Dumbledore looked at the dead man sadly. "It is a man called Tom Riddle. I knew him once, long ago, as did many."

"So that really _is_ him?" James frowned and knelt down to get a closer look.

"As I said, yes, that is him. But that is him as he once was – innocent and kind, and not tainted by greed."

"But how –?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "It was only Riddle's soul that was corrupt, so when he lost it, his body no longer had to twist itself to express the evil inside. It is now simply a reflection of what he was, or what he could have been."

"What a waste," James muttered.

"Indeed."

Both men looked at the other body.

Sirius, too, was lying on his back, his arms flung out, almost as though he was on a cross. His long, black hair pooled on the flagstones around his head and his skin was a perfect, snow white that contrasted shockingly with his still red lips. His face, too, was relaxed as though in sleep, but unlike Voldemort, a small smile stretched his mouth as though, in his last instant, he had seen or heard something that had filled his heart with joy.

Apart from the burnt robes, the Death Eater looked as though he were a mannequin, perfect and pristine and it was eerie to think that he had ever been alive, because he looked so very, very dead.

James leant closer, a frown marring his forehead as he stared intently at Black. He had never seen anyone who looked quite _that_ dead before, even when they were. _'there's something odd, here,_' his mind told him, even as he picked up one lifeless hand, looking for some reaction.

A scuffle from the door behind him interrupted his train of thought, and he leapt to his feet, wand at the ready in case it was another Death Eater.

Remus stood swaying in the doorway, grimy, pale and with wild eyes.

"Re!" James bounded over, intent on hugging his friend, but was stopped before he had so much as touched the other man. The coldness in Remus's eyes was shocking, and it knocked the breath from his lungs.

"Where is he?"

"Remus, no, he's…"

"Where. Is. He."

James swallowed. "Remus, he's…he's _dead_."

Remus felt the ground give way under his feet. The room span once the realigned itself with a sharp, cold, clarity. As though from a distance, he heard James talking, but couldn't make out what he was saying. He saw Dumbledore standing some distances away, an unfathomable look in his wise blue eyes. He saw the bodies, all huddled on the ground like so many spare rags and there, in the centre of the room, he saw a flash of black hair.

A sobbing breath escaped his lungs, but he hardly felt it. He was too numb, too shocked. He should have known, should have _known_ when the link exploded in that glorious cloud of gold and he'd hear Sirius cry his name.

_'I'll catch you up…_'

"Liar…you liar," he whispered, sinking to the floor, unable to support himself any longer.

'_Don't worry about me…_'

He could still hear James talking, hear the worry in his voice, but he ignored it, unable to hear or see anything – too wrapped up in the agony that his soul was going through. He could feel a cold numbness creeping across his mind and he shuddered as his vision went grey.

'I'll catch you up…' 

"You promised me…_you liar!_"

I'll catch you up… 

To Be Continued 

**CB:** Don't kill me, please don't kill me! An Epilogue to follow.

**TO SAY THANK YOU:** Because so many of you reviewed and were so kind, I really want to thank all of you. However, I can't go back through 250 odd reviews and name each and every one of you as you deserve. So, instead, I'll write each of you a drabble. If you review this chapter, leave your name and then five words to indicate your drabble is to be about, I'll write you one.

E.G. Sirius, Remus, chocolate, book, map.

Out of these words **_I will make a drabble for you_.**

**Thanks everyone!**


	12. Epilogue

**CB:** Well, here it is then, the epilogue.

Drabbles are the top entry of my livejournal (just click on my 'homepage' on my profile!)

Remus stared at the motorcycle, which gleamed dully in the soft light of the shed. Its black paintwork reflected his own image as he took a careful step nearer, one hand half raised, as though he wanted to touch it.

Sirius was dead… 

His breath caught in his throat, and he snatched his hand back as though he had been burned. The bike continued to reflect the light, patiently waiting for its owner to return.

_He's not coming back…_

Remus bit his lip, hands curling into fists. Less than three hours ago, Sirius had been alive. Less than three hours ago, they had been linked, inseparable. Less than three hours ago, the world had, for once, seemed as though it was favouring him. He let out a choked sob, wrapping his arms around his body, as though against intense cold, and continued to stare at the motorcycle.

He'd found it unintentionally as he wandered aimlessly around the castle, not wanting to return to the Great Hall, where Dumbledore and James were still carefully examining and identifying the bodies. He didn't want to see Sirius again, so pale, peaceful, perfect and dead. He'd hated the stifling atmosphere and the soft, gentle voices they had used when talking to him, and the sympathetic looks they had cast his way when they didn't think he would notice.

Remus sighed, not bothering to wipe away the tears that trailed down his cheeks and moved over to the motorcycle, running one hand over the soft leather of the saddle. It was almost warm and, oddly, it felt as though Sirius had just vacated the seat and exited the shed – that he was waiting impatiently outside for Remus, a small, irritated frown on his face that would fade the moment the werewolf appeared.

Without hesitation, almost as though he was following orders, Remus swung a leg over the bike, settling onto it. Without looking, instinctively, he reached for his wand and pointed it at the ignition. He allowed himself a small smile as the engine roared into life, and was gratified to hear the surprised shouts coming from the castle as the remaining Aurors heard the noise and came running to see what the matter was.

Without waiting, however, he released the brakes and shot out of the shed, his heart screaming as his mind refused to think about anything.

AaAaAaAa

Godric's Hollow – Seven Years Later 

"So…do you think we should tell him?"

Remus froze outside the kitchen door, still holding Harry, who wiggled impatiently.

"I don't know," Lily's voice sounded dubious, and through the crack, Remus could see her standing, one hand on James's arm. "I'm not sure whether it wouldn't be better to let things lie. It's been nearly a decade, James, perhaps it'd be for the best if we said nothing."

Harry wriggled again, and Remus nearly dropped the surprisingly heavy six-year-old. Putting one finger to his lip, he nodded at Harry, who settled against his waist, looking faintly disgruntled but willing to comply.

"It just seems to me," Lily was saying, "that there's no sense in raking up the past. Remus is happy here with us, and all of this would just upset him. No, I think that it's far better to let him continue to live happily than worry about things that are over and done with."

"But Dumbledore…"

"…Would agree with me," Lily said firmly, and Remus could tell from her tone that, as far as she was concerned, that was the end of the conversation.

James sighed, but didn't disagree, and turned to pull two slices of toast out of the toaster, setting them on the table with the rest of the breakfast that was already laid out. Pouring four glasses of orange juice, he watched as Lily set the places around the table then stuck his head out of the kitchen window to look out into the garden – trying to spot his son and the boy's errant godfather who was, no doubt, trying to persuade the younger Potter out of a tree.

"Remus! Harry! Breakfast!"

Harry wriggled again, and this time Remus set him down, letting the boy burst into the kitchen and throw himself into his chair, reaching enthusiastically for some toast. Following at a more sedate pace, Remus schooled his expression into one of vague interest and sat down at his own place, smiling at Lily, who rolled her eyes before turning to scold Harry for eating too fast.

Once they were all seated and eating, James glanced at Remus.

"You know," he said casually, buttering his own toast, "I was thinking, Rem, isn't it about time you sold that bike?"

Remus froze, and Lily sitting next to James, shot her husband a disapproving scowl before turning hawk eyes on Harry again. "Drink your juice," she snapped, clearly deciding that no matter what she said, James was going to do things his own way.

Harry obediently drank.

"Because I thought that maybe we could get a muggle car to go in that garage and, you know, your bike's a bit big, we wouldn't be able to fit them both in…" James trailed off, shrugged and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Just a thought, of course," he added, reaching for the plate of scrambled eggs.

"Yes." Remus swallowed and smiled tightly, taking a large gulp of the tea Lily had just set down in front of him. "Maybe you're right, James, I'll think about it." He stared hard at his plate, trying to ignore the small voice at the back of his mind that constantly chanted that this was Sirius's bike and that he, Remus, should keep it as a last link to the Death Eater - and just what was he doing agreeing with James?

The awkward silence was broken by Harry who looked up, beamed, and pointed at the window – his face wreathed in a cheerful grin. "Owl post!" He crowed and Lily stood up to let the _Daily Prophet_ owl in.

Swooping, it dropped the paper on James's plate – right on top of his scrambled eggs – and flew out again.

"Bloody owl," the Auror grumbled, wiping some ketchup off of the front page. "I wouldn't be surprised if –" He froze, his face turning pale as his eyes scanned the headlines and subsequent article.

"James? Darling, what is it?" Lily leant over, her face alight with curiosity. "Oh," she said softly as she, too, caught sight of the paper. "_Oh_."

Remus raised an eyebrow, and leant across the table. "Must be something truly fascinating to have you two react like that," he said mildly, ignoring Harry who was looking from one face to another, an expression of furious curiosity on his face. "Mind if I take a look?"

"What? Oh…" James shook himself and glanced at his son. "Harry, go and play outside."

"But –"

"_Now_."

Grumbling, the boy slid from his seat and hurried out of the kitchen, pausing only to steal a piece of cold toast from the breadboard as he went.

Remus's other eyebrow rose. "Now why are you two so worked up?"

Wordlessly, Lily handed him the paper.

'DIARY OF YOU-KNOW-WHO'S RIGHT HAND MAN FOUND BY MUGGLES', trumpeted the headlines, 'Archaeologists make lucky scoop!'commented the sub-heading.

"Oh. Oh _my_." Remus swallowed and licked his suddenly dry lips. "I…oh dear."

'It was announced yesterday on the muggle news that a mysterious diary had been found in the peat bog near Donnington Castle.

_The muggle who discovered the diary believed it to be a piece of fiction, or the work of a practical joker, however, Ministry Officials (in disguise) managed to ascertain that the diary did, in fact, belong to Sirius Black, a Death Eater and strong supporter of You-Know-Who._

_Black's diary has since been confiscated from the Muggles, and memory charms placed on as many as possible of the small group of historians. The diary itself was re-examined last night within the Ministry Of Magic, and early this morning, Mr CW Crouch made this statement:_

_"It is obvious that this diary is, indeed, genuine, and it has given us a great deal of insight into the minds and tactics of Death Eaters. Whilst this is, of course, no longer necessary, the diary may still be useful in other ways."_

_When pressed, however, he refused to comment any further on the subject._

_The diary itself will be published later this year, as the Ministry feels it is important to put a full end to the terror of You-Know-Who, and they believe that this book may be the key to success. According to Fudge, who was more willing to talk with the press, the diary is 'a useful tool in combating the fear still instilled in us by Voldemort. It shows the other side of things and how, more often than not, the Death Eaters who joined him were simply wicked men who were no more powerful than you or I.'_

_Attempts are also being made to locate the mysterious 'Remus' who appears…_'

Remus put the paper down, unable to read any further.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to look at Lily and James, who looked back at him, equally shocked and pale.

"They found his diary."

"Yes."

Remus bit his lip; fingers shaking as he carefully smoothed the front of the paper. "What on _earth_ am I going to do now, James? I don't want this kind of attention. I don't _want_ people looking for me! Surely they can just let me live peacefully?"

James shrugged, his expression grim. "Crouch, Fudge and Dumbledore know who you are," he said thoughtfully, "but they're obviously not willing to tell – probably have the same idea as you: let sleeping dogs lie. Other than them, I can't think of anyone who could be a possible lead to you."

"Except us," Lily interjected.

"Yes, but no one knows we know Remus," James pointed out. "And nobody knows who _we_ are anyway, so I think that's ok." He smiled, looking slightly relieved. "You'll just have to be careful who you give your name to, Rem, that's all."

Remus nodded and stood up. "I'm going outside," he said quietly.

Neither Lily nor James stopped him.

AaAaAaAa

It had started as another fairly normal day, Remus reflected as he sat in the living room, staring morosely out of the window.

He and Harry had played in the garden, James had gone to work and Lily had gone to Diagon Alley to acquire a new cauldron. Left in the house to his own devices and to look after his godson, Remus had suggested they both spend an hour reading quietly. Harry, who had been more than happy to oblige, had climbed onto his lap and, once settled with a book, promptly fell asleep.

That was when the telephone had rung.

Not wanting to disturb the sleeping six year old, Remus had frowned at the phone and gently placed Harry on the sofa. Slightly suspiciously – for hardly anybody ever rang the Potters on their Muggle landline except for the electric company – he had answered the telephone.

"Hello?"

A polite cough sounded, hollow and tinny, from the other end. "Ex-excuse me…" someone said, their voice rough, "James Potter told me you might be interested in selling a bike, am I correct?"

Remus silently cursed James and his well-meaning interference. "Yes," he muttered, grudgingly, "you are."

"Ah," the person paused. "Can I take a look at it, first?" He asked eventually, "it's just, I was told it was a Triumph – but I'm looking for something specific, so if I buy it without viewing it, it might be a bit of a waste of money."

"Certainly," Remus could hear the false politeness dripping from his voice as his knuckles turned white thanks to his grip on the receiver. "When would you like to swing by and see it?"

"Well…I've got the afternoon off work, maybe now? Is that convenient?"

"Yes, come over and I'll show you the bike." Not waiting for an answer, he'd slammed the phone down.

So he had sat by the window, gloomily staring out and contemplating the many ways in which he was going to torture, murder and generally maim James Potter.

The muted throb of an engine coming down the road, made him start and peer outside. Godric's Hollow was set on the outskirts of a small village, and it was very rare that there was any traffic – least of all something that sounded like…Remus squinted down the road…_was_ a sleek black motorcycle.

Harry stirred in his sleep and made a small noise of discontent as the bike roared closer, the rider slowing the vehicle down as he obviously squinted inside his helmet, clearly searching for something. As he reached Godric's Hollow, he paused, then halted the motorcycle completely. Kicking the stand down, he switched off the engine and dismounted in one fluid movement. Remus just had time to appreciate the black leather trousers and jacket that matched the bike, before his mind registered that the motorcyclist was walking up the garden path, his heavy black boots clumping loudly on the concrete.

Harry yawned and sat up. "A visitor?" He asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Just someone to see me," Remus murmured absently, already walking towards the hall. "Stay here and read your book, alright?"

His godson muttered something, but picked up the book.

Out in the hall, Remus took a moment to compose himself as the doorbell rang, before he gritted his teeth and opened the front door.

"Good afternoon, I suspect you're here to take a look at my bike?"

"Yeah," the voice inside the helmet was slightly muffled, but still hoarse-sounding.

"Come in then, do you want a cup of tea?" Remus smiled tightly and led the way into the kitchen, the stranger clunking behind him as his boots marched across Lily's pristine wooden floor. "There's a peg to hang your jacket on by the stairs," Remus added, not bothering to turn around as he continued into the kitchen. Hearing the sound of a zip being undone then the soft hush of fabric being removed, he busied himself with the kettle, refusing to look up as the man entered the room.

"So, is it a specific _make_ of the Triumph that you're looking for, or just a specific Triumph?" He asked, dropping teabags into a cup.

"A bit of both." There was the rustle of clothing as the stranger shifted in his chair. "I…er…sold my own bike several years ago, and took it into my head last week to try and find it again. Lucky break running into James, he knows I was looking for a bike and suggested I try you."

"Really." Remus poured boiling water into the cups and kept his tone pleasant but neutral. "Milk?"

"No, thanks, I take my tea black." The stranger shifted again, the barest hint of a grin in his voice.

"Sugar then?"

"No _thank_ you."

The werewolf shrugged and picked up the cups. Turning, he got his first glimpse of the potential buyer.

His first impression was of black hair. Long black hair. His second impression was of wicked grey eyes and he gasped, his chest and throat suddenly so painfully tight that he couldn't breathe properly. The cups fell to the floor, shattering and spilling scalding tea all over the kitchen. Dimly he heard Harry let out a startled yell in the next room and coming running in, yelling "Uncle Remus! Uncle Remus!" but the world had faded to something distant and far away and all he could see was those familiar eyes and a small, rather worried grin as the stranger watched him, his face upturned to catch the rays of sun filtering in the kitchen window.

"What…" he croaked; licked his lips and tried again. "What did you say your, uh, name was?"

Harry paused in his cries to look from one man to the other. Even he, at six, could feel the electrical charge in the air and he decided it might be prudent to retreat to the other side of kitchen table – well out of range of any potential danger.

"I didn't," barely a whisper as the man continued to stare at Remus, his eyes burning in his face, "I didn't tell you my name."

"What…what is it?" Already Remus was beginning to rationalise as he stared at the man. _'It's not him, his hair's too long, he's not wearing robes, he look somehow…younger than before, he isn't, it can't be, it's not…_

"You know my name."

"S…Sirius…" Remus croaked, his whole body shaking as he stared, rooted to the spot, not even noticing as Harry fled from the kitchen, unable to understand what was happening and somehow unwilling to intrude.

Lips curved into a smile and Sirius stood up, an expression of fond amusement on his face. "You don't have to sound so scared, Lupin, I'm not a ghost…well, not exactly," he amended, pulling a face.

"How…what…"

"I think you'd better sit down."

Remus did. Abruptly. Unfortunately it was on the kitchen floor – not by choice, but because he could simply no longer stand. Sirius crouched next to him, not touching him, but close enough to offer some kind of reassurance.

"I'm not a ghost," he repeated again, "but I'm not human, either."

"Then what…what _are_ you?"

"I'm a spirit."

Remus let out a choked laugh. "And that's different from a ghost – how?"

Sirius pulled a face. "This is always difficult to explain," he muttered. "Look, when I…died, my soul wasn't actually in my body, rather, it was partly in my body, partly in Voldemort's body and partly in…in you."

"Wh-what?"

Sirius ignored the interruption. "So the spell didn't drain my soul – it couldn't, you see, because it was divided, and it only had a link to the piece that was in the body that had cast it. Because of this, when my natural body died due to the massive drain, the rest of my soul broke contact and, essentially, simply drifted. I was me, but I was me without a body. I still _am_ me without a body.

"I could have wandered permanently; after all, to others I was simply the same as a ghost – I hadn't died a natural death and therefore I still maintained a link to the living world." Sirius shrugged and brushed some hair out of his eyes. "Dumbledore found me. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement, after all, I was working against everything he stood for. But then he told me about how you…you weren't coping very well with, er, things, and he suggested I do something to help…"

Remus frowned, his mind a jumble of confusion. "What on earth could you do to help me? You're dead."

"Yes, and then again, no."

"_What_?"

Sirius smiled gently and looked away, across the kitchen, his hair falling to cover his face, obscuring his expression from view. "I'm alive as long as you are," he said gently. "I'm…I haven't got a solid physical form but…you remember that spell that linked us together?"

"Yes…"

"Well, some of it's still in force." Sirius reached over and touched Remus's forehead. The touch felt like a cool brush of air, soft and caressing, but nothing more. "It's still at work in here, because it was never taken off. The caster may be dead, but the spell was enforced so it would become permanent. Because of this link, I can still feel you, feel your emotions. This is, I think, what kept me from slipping into whatever comes next, despite my unnatural death.

"Dumbledore decided to use this to his advantage, but it's taken until now for him to work out how."

"How?"

Sirius smiled again and leant back against the kitchen cupboard. "Ever heard of guardian angels, Remus?"

"Yes…"

"I'm yours, essentially. I'm linked to you, I can wield power through you; I can tell you when you're in danger; I can make sure you stay safe. It's what I wanted – what I asked for – and Dumbledore agreed it was for the best. If I'm watching over you, to him, at least, you'll be ten times more useful because you will have the fundamental power of two wizards, not one, and I believe this is going to help him with the, er, 'cleaning up' of any left over dark forces."

Remus's head was spinning as he buried his face in his hands, unable to take it all in. "So, _you're_ my 'guardian angel'?" He managed to ask.

"Yes. But there's a price."

"What?"

Sirius stretched, shifting to make himself more comfortable, and his hand accidentally brushed through Remus's. "Well, like I said, when you die, I die as well. I'm not 'alive', but I'm spiritually aware, which means that when you finally pass on, I'll pass with you. I may be a spirit, but _you_ are my key to crossing into the afterlife. Also," he paused, then turned his head so that he was looking straight into Remus's eyes. "You have to start living again," he said softly.

"I…" Remus began, about to protest.

"No, you're not." Again, there was the cool brush of air as Sirius tried to touch the side of his face. "You're existing, Remus. You get up, you go to work, you play with Harry; you go to sleep. You're not _there_ any more. You're not you." The Death Eater smiled, sadly. "You've got to let go. It's been seven years. _Seven_, Remus! Yes, I'm here now, but I'm not a human any more. I can't stand behind you night and day, I can't…" his voice broke and he bit his lip, "I can't _touch_ you anymore. You have no idea how hard that is for me, but I make an effort to get on. I'm here for you, now you've got to be here for yourself."

"I…I know…" Remus's gaze dropped and he stared hard at the floor, his eyes burning as his vision wobbled and splintered. "I know, but it's so hard…" he whispered.

"It's hard now, but I'll be there for you." Sirius grinned, but his smile was still bittersweet. "Move on, Remus, be _happy_, that was what I wanted then for you and it's what I want now. I'm always going to be here, even when you can't see me, but you need to enjoy life. Promise me?"

"I…I promise." Remus looked up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Damn it, Black, you don't ask much from a man, do you?"

Sirius's laughter filled the room. "It's not that difficult, my love," he murmured when he'd finished giggling, "and I'll be there to make sure no one stops you from being happy."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Remus bit his lip. "But you…you said I won't always see you."

"No." Sirius shook his head, his expression sobering again. "No, you won't because I don't have enough energy to project this image too often, and as time goes by, I'll begin to fade more and more."

"But you'll still be here?"

"I'll still be here."

Suddenly, as though hearing something Remus could not, Sirius stiffened, his head cocked to one side. There was a pause – no more than a heartbeat – and then he smiled again. Remus looked at him, anxious.

"What? What is it?"

"I have to go, apparently Dumbledore can't keep this part of the spell running for much longer."

"Dumbledore? He's behind this?"

"Mm, clever man, that one. I wish I'd been able to speak to him whilst I was alive. He helped me to become this…solid-looking so that I could speak to you without frightening you." He smiled again, but a strange, paleness was creeping up around him. "But I've got to go."

"You're leaving." Remus could hear the panic in his voice. "You're leaving me again!"

"No, not leaving." Sirius was beginning to flicker slightly, wavering. "I'll never leave you. I told you that. I'll always be here, ready to protect you."

"So how will I find you, if I can't see you?" His voice was becoming louder, more urgent.

A slender, fading arm reached out and lightly placed a palm against Remus's chest, above his heart. "Because I'll be here." Even Sirius's voice was beginning to fade slightly. "I'm always going to be here, Remus. Just call for me and I'll come."

"And if…" Remus swallowed, "…_When_ I die, how will I find you then? I'm your key, you said so; how will I know when the time is right?"

"You'll know…" Sirius was fading fast now, barely more than an outline against the sunlight, his voice the barest whisper. "I'll come for you…"

"You'll come for me? What does that mean? What does all _this_ mean?" Suddenly Remus had too many questions and not enough time. He scrambled forwards, trying to reach Sirius, just to touch him…

But Sirius had faded.

Remus felt the barest brush against his lips and heard a murmured '_I love you_,' and suddenly, he paused. Something in his heart that had, before, been a cold hard knot of pain, had begun to melt. A warm glow filled him, radiating out from his chest, and for the first time in seven years, he gave a small, but utterly genuine smile.

One hand slowly reached up to touch his chest, just above his heart, and he heard Sirius's voice.

I'll always be here… 

James and Dumbledore had a lot of explaining to do.

AaAaAaAa

The stars were bright and clear in the cold night sky. They glittered like diamonds their eerie light reflecting on the frost that lay thick on the ground. An owl hooted in an oak tree, the rustle of its feathers carrying clearly on the still air. The world was silent, as though holding its breath, waiting for something momentous to happen.

_Laughter shattered the stillness, echoing into the night, and the laughter was soon joined by another, more cautious laugh._

_"How…how did you find me?"_

_"I promised. I keep my promises."_

_If there had been anyone around, they might have caught a glimpse of something – a flash of long, black hair, maybe, or the glint of amber eyes. They might have paused, certain that they could see two, pale figures standing under the oak tree, entwined. They might have stopped, then taken a step nearer, unsure whether their imagination was playing tricks on them – might have hesitated, suddenly cautious as one of the figures tossed back its head, letting out a long howl to the sky as the other, shorter one, laughed and told him to be quiet._

_"You're loud enough to wake the dead!"_

_"But darling…" Low, mocking._

_"Don't say it! Don't you dare say it!" Half spluttered, through laughter. Then suddenly, softly: "I love you."_

_"I know."_

_"I never forgot you."_

_"I told you, you never would."_

_"I love you."_

_"…"_

_"IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou." Urgent, quiet, as though the person had never had enough time to say it – had always wanted to, but never could._

_Perhaps the casual observer would have seen the taller of the two gather the light-haired one closer, holding him reassuringly, crooning softly into his ear, as if to say 'I'm here, we're here, we're both real and together and that is what matters.'_

_"I love you." That whisper again, and this time the longhaired one replied in kind._

_There was silence for a while, the two figures barely discernible in the darkness. After a while, one of them spoke._

_"Didn't you say we had to move on?"_

_"Perhaps." A soft laugh. "Wouldn't you like to see the world, first?"_

_"I've seen the world."_

_"So see it through new eyes."_

_"If I didn't know you better, Black, I'd say you were tempting me to break the rules."_

_"Do you even know what the rules are?"_

_"No. You?"_

_"No, so how can we be breaking them? I'm sure if there's an afterlife, it'll still be waiting for us years from now." A soft snicker. "Don't tell me you're scared, Remus…"_

_"What, scared of you? Hah!"_

_A leer. "You should be."_

_The two figures turned, outlined for a moment against the night sky. The taller one tilted its head back, looking up._

_"Hey, Remus?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_" Have you ever just stopped and looked at them? The stars, I mean. Haven't you ever studied them and, for a moment, wanted to last forever?"_

_"Nothing can last forever, you know; not even stars."_

_"I'm a star."_

_"And you won't last forever either." Said in a gentle, sing-song voice, as though this conversation had already been played through before._

_"Maybe not," the barest sound above the rustle of the leaves of the tree. "but I think we will."_

_"We'll last forever?"_

_"We'll last forever." Firm, assured._

_The shorter one was silent, moving only to embrace the taller one again._

_"We'll last forever," he echoed, softly._

'I thank God each day  
For finding the time  
For looking down on me  
And making you mine So yes there are Angels  
In heaven above  
I know because God  
Sent me one to love'  
- Alan Burleson

**Finis**

**CB:** And that's it. I'm sorry for those who were happy with the complete death of Sirius – but I couldn't just let Remus suffer. Much love to you all, and thank you for your amazing, wonderful comments. See you in another project, hopefully!


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